


The Bits Between

by GallifreyisBurning



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Between Episodes, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Multi-Era, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-05-28 19:25:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 26,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15056102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GallifreyisBurning/pseuds/GallifreyisBurning
Summary: Trouble's just the bits in between, or so the Doctor told Jackie Tyler. Really, though, it depends on your definition of trouble. After all, what causes more problems in the long run - a thwarted attempt at a Slitheen invasion, or falling in love with a 900-year-old alien?Rose Tyler ran off with the Doctor to have adventures and see the universe. However, even the most adventurous girl has to rest - and that down time can be just as interesting as the adventures, in the right company. *A look at the quiet times the Doctor and Rose spend on the TARDIS between episodes, and how their relationship evolved because of them.*





	1. 1.1-1.2 Rose/The End of the World

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! In true new-to-fic-writing fashion, I've decided to play around with the stories between the stories -- in other words, this is your standard "between episodes" fic for seasons 1 and 2 of New Who. I'll be writing and posting these as I rewatch, so the timing of chapter releases will be a bit haphazard. Unbetaed and written by an American, so please bear with me! Comments and suggestions are VERY welcome. Rating will likely increase as time goes on. Chapters will mostly be quite short!
> 
> The epilogue does cover Journey’s End, so please feel free to skip if that’s not your bag!

Rose Tyler had had a weird day. Or was it two days? Maybe 36 hours? Five billion years? She honestly wasn’t entirely sure. She knew she’d woken up at 7:30 AM despite the fact that she no longer had a job to go to. She knew that it had been past sundown already when she and the Doctor had reached the London Eye. By the time she’d made the perhaps slightly impulsive decision to join the Doctor in his TARDIS, it had been well after dark. But then they’d immediately launched themselves into the future, and landed themselves on Platform One. She thought they’d technically only been there for a bit over an hour -- just long enough for the Earth to burn, half the craft’s passengers to die, and a sentient skin graft to explode in front of her -- but she’d felt years older by the time they left. Then the Doctor had landed them back in London in what she assumed to be her own time period, but in full daylight. The Doctor had confessed to being the last of an otherwise extinct alien species, and then they’d gone for chips.

A weird day. Definitely.

When they’d returned to the TARDIS, the Doctor had seemed eager to be off again as quickly as possible. Rose thought that perhaps, now that she had food in her stomach and had had some time to process, he was hoping to keep her busy enough that she wouldn’t have a chance to second guess her decision to keep travelling with him after he took her to watch her planet be incinerated. She’d tried to remain engaged, hovering next to him in front of the console as he nattered on about some potential destination or other, but she’d been having trouble focusing and her eyes had kept trying to drift closed, despite her repeated attempts to snap them back open. Finally, the Doctor had taken notice of her nearly-unconscious state and gently taken her by the shoulders, turning her toward a long metal corridor.

“Go on then, off to bed with you,” he’d directed fondly. “There should be some empty bedrooms down the first corridor on your left. Take whichever one you like.” Rose had nodded, stifling a yawn with her arm, and shuffled off to find a bed. 

Too tired to go back and ask the Doctor what she should do about pajamas once she’d chosen a room, Rose had simply stripped off her jeans and hoodie and climbed into bed in her knickers and tee shirt. Now that she was safely ensconced under a fluffy duvet in a quiet room, however, Rose couldn’t seem to reclaim the exhaustion that had overtaken her just minutes before. Staring at the ceiling, she pondered what, exactly, she had gotten herself in to.

She knew why she’d done it, of course. She hadn’t been lying, when she said she had no A-levels, no job, and no future. Before the Doctor arrived and blew up her job, Rose hadn’t had a plan for her life whatsoever, other than continuing to go to work and spend time with her friends and Mickey. She hadn’t even begun to think about when or how she would move out of her mum’s flat. It wasn’t a bad life, sure, but it certainly wasn’t interesting. When confronted by a mysterious older man who saved the world and offered to whisk her away into space and time, what girl in her right mind would say no?

Lying in the dim room, listening to the hum of the impossible ship, however, Rose wasn’t entirely sure she’d made the right decision. Sure, the Doctor was charismatic and exciting and maybe a bit handsome in a Roman statue sort of way, but he was also undeniably not of this world. He’d pulled off the plastic replicant of Mickey’s head without a thought, and been irritated that Rose was upset about the possible death of her boyfriend. He’d taken her to watch her planet burn as though it were a treat and not a nightmare. He’d more or less sentenced Cassandra to death without a trial right in front of her, without even blinking. And yet he’d also been a bit sweet -- he’d fixed her phone so that she could call her mum from five billion years in the future, he’d come back for her even after she rejected his initial offer to travel, and he’d offered to take her home when she seemed overwhelmed by their first (to be fair, disastrous) excursion -- presenting the offer not with disdain, but with understanding and an undertone of worry. 

Rose groaned and rolled over, punching one of the extremely fluffy pillows before burrowing her head into it. What was she going to do?! This was all so surreal. Two days ago she’d been halfheartedly refolding jumpers at a department store, and now she was trying to fall asleep on a sodding SPACESHIP. Before two days ago she hadn’t even had a strong opinion on whether aliens were REAL or not, and now she was going on holiday with one. IN SPACE. 

A soft knock sounded at the bedroom door.

“Rose?” came the Doctor’s quiet voice from the hallway.

“Yeah, I’m up,” Rose called, sitting up in bed, pulling her knees up to her chin under the duvet. “You can come in if you want.” The door swung partially open and the Doctor leaned on the doorframe, arms crossed across his chest.

“Just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he explained, sounding a bit hesitant. “I was walking by and heard you just now; you sounded distressed.”

“Nah, I’m fine,” Rose denied quickly. The Doctor raised an eyebrow at her.

“Alright, if you’re sure,” he answered skeptically. “If you need anything, you come find me, okay? The TARDIS will help you track me down.”

“Won’t you be in bed?” Rose queried. The Doctor had experienced the same chaotic “day” that she had; surely he was also exhausted.

“Nah, don’t need much sleep, me. Don’t bother with it most nights,” he returned nonchalantly.

“Yeah, alright,” Rose replied, pondering this and filing it away under her new mental list of things that made her host not-quite-human. “Thank you,” she added after a moment, realizing that she was a bit touched that he’d checked in on her.  _ One more mark in the “a bit sweet” column as well, then _ , she thought. The Doctor nodded and turned away, pulling the door closed behind him.

“Good night, Rose Tyler,” he bade her quietly over his shoulder before the door latched.

“Goodnight, Doctor,” she whispered after him, unsure if he could still hear her. The interaction had been brief and arguably insignificant, but it had somehow reassured her that while her decision may have been impulsive, it wasn’t necessarily a bad one. The Doctor had been transparent about the fact that traveling with him would be dangerous, but he also seemed to genuinely care about her comfort and happiness, despite the fact that they barely knew each other. With a sigh, she rolled over and fell asleep.


	2. 1.3 The Unquiet Dead

Rose lay, once again, flopped on top of the bed (her bed? She supposed it was, now) in a dim room, staring at the ceiling, but blessedly in actual pajamas this time around. She’d found the soft flannel bottoms and cotton vest top when she’d gone to return the frankly spectacular red and black gown she’d borrowed for their first adventure into Earth’s past. When she’d seen them, she’d decided that the Doctor’s earlier invitation to use the wardrobe room was open ended—she wasn’t entirely sure he’d meant it that way, but there were an awful lot of clothes in there, so she doubted he’d notice one missing pair of jimjams. And anyway, given that all he’d changed to venture out into 1860 (or 1869, as it turned out) was his jumper, it seemed unlikely that he made extensive use of the room, himself.

For now, therefore, Rose was giving herself carte blanche to borrow whatever she needed. She wondered idly what she would have done if they hadn’t visited an era where the Doctor thought to tell her to change her clothes. He hadn’t seemed to notice that she was wearing the same hoodie and jeans this morning (morning being a relative term, of course) as she had done yesterday, so for all she knew, he would have let her continue on wearing the same manky outfit indefinitely. She was relatively sure he wouldn’t have noticed.

Although, she pondered, smiling slightly, he had certainly noticed the red and black dress. He hadn’t seemed particularly aware of her casual flirting at the console when they’d landed (better with two indeed) but oh, the dress had gotten his attention. Not that she was sure she wanted his attention, necessarily, at least not like that. Maybe. Did she? It felt so natural to hold his hand, to lean against him as they walked. He was so excitable, so delighted to show her the universe. He made her feel… something. Special, maybe? She wasn’t quite sure. She just felt a bit warmer when she was with him, and when he smiled at her. Possibly she was developing a bit of a crush. It was only natural, given the circumstances.

Mind, she  _ had _ once again ended up disturbingly close to death. Twice. She didn’t much fancy the idea of being taken out by gaseous ghost-zombie-aliens some hundred-odd years before she was born. And frankly, although the first instance wasn’t really his fault (she’d volunteered to chase after Sneed and Gwyneth), the second could have been entirely avoided if he’d listened to her about letting the Gelth inhabit the dead in the first place. But no, he’d had to yell at her about “new moralities” and threaten to send her home, and then Gwyneth and Sneed were  _ both _ dead and they’d almost been murdered and turned into zombies in a basement morgue. The mention of the Time War had turned his expression dark, and he’d been downright condescending for awhile there.

Still, he’d apologized, and they’d gotten out. And she’d gotten to meet Charles Dickens, which wasn’t half bad. Also, near-death experiences seemed to turn the Doctor a bit romantic. The way he’d looked at her as he said “I’m so glad I met you,” there’d definitely been something in those striking blue eyes of his, and the smile he’d given her had been soft, not fierce. Interesting, that. She’d have to make a mental note. Deadly danger = affectionate Doctor.  

As if on cue, a soft knock sounded on her door, much as it had the night before.

“Come in!” Rose called. The door opened a crack and the Doctor stuck his head in.

“Ah good, you’re still awake!” he greeted her with a grin.

“Yeah,” Rose responded, hauling herself up to sit cross-legged on the bed, facing the door. “Not really tired. Not entirely sure how long I’ve even been awake, to be honest. Just had to get out of that corset!” She grinned, tongue between her teeth, and her eyes sparkled as the Doctor’s gaze lingered briefly at that tiny bit of tongue before sweeping down over her pajama-clad figure and back up to her face. He didn’t say anything for a moment, and Rose pushed her hair behind her ear, starting to feel self-conscious. “Did you want something?”

“Right! Yes!” The Doctor’s grin returned to full force as his eyes met hers. “I was going to pop by the library to find my copy of Dickens’ complete works, and I realized I haven’t given you much of a TARDIS tour. Do you fancy a bit of a look around? I can point out a few of the rooms you might find interesting, and then maybe we can have a cuppa and you could join me in the library to read for a bit. If you like.”

“Sounds lovely,” Rose agreed readily, unfolding herself and swinging her legs to the floor. “Only let me grab my hoodie; I don’t have a dressing gown or anything and might be a bit cold out there in just this.” She gestured vaguely at her torso and watched the Doctor’s eyes follow her hand down towards her chest before they snapped back to her face and… was he  _ blushing? _ Ooh, that was as interesting development. Not just the dress that he noticed, then.

“Oh, ah, go ahead and peek in the wardrobe in the corner, the TARDIS is pretty good at making sure whatever you need is nearby,” the Doctor told her.

“Okaaaay…” Rose answered, walking over to the tall mirrored armoire situated next to the door to her room’s en suite. Sure enough, a fluffy bathrobe hung on a hanger, next to a selection of tops, jumpers, and pairs of jeans that looked to be about her size. Below the hanging rack were several pairs of boots and trainers, as well as a pair of fuzzy pink slippers. Shaking her head dazedly, Rose grabbed the slippers and robe and put them on. “Alright then! Where to?”

The Doctor held out his hand for Rose, and she slid hers into it, following him into the hall. They meandered down the corridors, hand in hand, and the Doctor pointed out doors along the way, explaining what was behind them. Some of the rooms she would have expected, if she’d given it much thought (galley, workshop), some seemed luxurious but not necessarily unfathomable (media room, observatory), and some she didn’t quite believe could possibly be what he said until he opened the doors for her to peek in.

“You’re kidding me!” she exclaimed, her voice echoing off the ceilings of the cavernous room holding the Olympic sized swimming pool. The bowling alley had her jaw dropping and her eyes blown wide. The vast conservatory full of unfamiliar flora, however, was what finally pushed her over the edge. “Just how big  _ is _ it in here?!” she exclaimed in chagrin, staring up at the Doctor. He grinned cheekily down at her.

“As big as she wants to be! The TARDIS is transdimensional. She can go on forever, if she likes, making up rooms as she goes.”

“She?”

“Of course! The TARDIS is sentient, didn’t I say?”

Rose shook her head, looking dumbstruck. “So when you said that she makes sure what you have is close at hand…”

“She figures out what you need and tries to provide it, yeah.”

“Huh.”

“You alright?” The Doctor looked a little nervous.

“Yeah, ‘course. It’s just… wow. She’s amazing, isn’t she?”

The Doctor’s smile was incandescent. “She’s fantastic.” Rose returned his smile and squeezed his hand. “So, library?” he suggested, breaking eye contact.

“Absolutely,” Rose answered.

The library felt straight out of Hogwarts to Rose. Tall, dark wooden shelves were filled with books with colorful spines, with spiral stairs leading up to a sort of mezzanine to access the volumes that were higher up. A plush, worn sofa and two cozy looking leather armchairs formed a semicircle in front of a large fireplace containing a crackling fire. A low table sat in front of the sofa, with two cups and a steaming pot of tea already sitting out. Speaking of Hogwarts…

“Hang on, this ship travels in time,” Rose stated, realization dawning on her face. The Doctor looked nonplussed.

“Thought that was a bit obvious, between the end of the earth and Charles Dickens,” he responded with a raised eyebrow.

“Does that mean you’ve got books from the future?”

“Of course! What, did you think my collection would end in the early 21 st century?”

“No, it’s just… have you got the final Harry Potter?” Rose asked hopefully.

The Doctor chuckled, catching on, and pointed. “Third shelf that way, second level. 21 st century Earth fantasy. Can’t miss it.”

Rose grinned and darted off to grab the volume. With a small smile, the Doctor found his Dickens and meandered over to the sofa, plunking himself down in one corner. Rose returned shortly and curled herself up in the other corner, eagerly opening her prize. The two sat in companionable silence, sipping their tea and perusing their respective books in the cozy glow of the fire. 

 

Once Rose finished her tea, she deposited her empty cup back on the low table. After hesitating a moment, she turned herself around on the sofa and leaned against the Doctor’s side, reopening her book. She sat slightly stiffly at first, waiting to see what the Doctor’s reaction would be, but he simply moved his book over so that he could prop it open with one hand, and stretched his other arm out along the back of the sofa, giving Rose more room. With a contented sigh, she settled herself into his side and returned to her story. It was several hours before she sleepily closed her book and excused herself for bed.


	3. 1.4-1.5 Aliens of London/World War Three

Rose hung up her clothes in the wardrobe next to the basics the TARDIS has provided while processing her more official move to the ship. The fact that she’d made the decision to stay on longer-term in the immediate aftermath of yet another near death experience had not failed to escape her notice, and she couldn’t help but be slightly concerned about what that said about her. She wasn’t entirely sure that her decision to sign on for real wasn’t an excuse to escape from the awkward reality of having abandoned her boyfriend and mother without a second thought. When she’d first run on to the Doctor’s ship, she hadn’t even pondered what it would mean for her relationship with Mickey. They hadn’t even discussed it. Accidentally returning after a year away had been a bucket of cold water over her head as to the repercussions of her actions, and she hadn’t felt prepared to handle it. So here she was, back on the TARDIS, leaving behind the two people who had until recently been the most important in her life rather than sorting out how her traveling with the Doctor affected them.

She also wasn’t prepared to think about the fact that the Doctor had so quickly moved up to, if not the first spot on her “most important people” list, certainly the second. Which was to say, he had displaced Mickey, who she had honestly more or less forgotten she was dating until she was face to face with him again. Bit awkward, that. Especially in light of the fact that her mum had accused him of murdering her. They’d only shared one chaste kiss before she ran off again, and they hadn’t discussed what her departure meant for them even a little bit, other than Mickey’s plaintive “you’re never going to stay, are you?” as she boarded the TARDIS. He’d certainly made it clear that he thought she was “with” the Doctor, but they hadn’t addressed it one way or the other. 

It was hard not to compare her relationship with Mickey with her relationship with the Doctor, even aside from Mickey and the police’s assumptions. She and Mickey had been dating for a couple years now, but it had never been intense or passionate. They were mates more than anything else, really; company for lunch breaks and telly, someone to cuddle, a default plus one. They didn’t even have much of a sex life, when it came down to it—they slept together from time to time, but it always felt like it was more because they felt they were supposed to than because they were terribly attracted to one another. Rose thought perhaps that their relationship had continued for this long mostly because they enjoyed each other’s company and neither of them felt strongly enough about it to end things.

The Doctor and Rose were not even remotely physically or romantically involved (well okay, except for a bit of cuddling in the library the other night and the occasional hand holding), and yet somehow their relationship had become much more integral to Rose’s life. It wasn’t surprising, given the intensity of the time they spent together—everything was life or death. Being dependent on someone for survival made it a bit inevitable that Rose would become attached to them, she surmised. Although, she pondered, the attachment did seem to go both ways. The Doctor’s “I could save the world, but lose you” had taken her off guard, if she was being honest. That he should care enough about her to even have any hesitation around whether he could sacrifice her safety for the good of the world was… unexpected. Especially in lieu of his admission that he was over 900 years old. That little revelation had certainly clarified for her his lack of initial concern about Mickey’s potential death when they’d first met; the lives of humans must seem so tiny to him. She’d resigned herself to the fact that the electricity she felt with him must be one sided. And yet. 

Tucking her now empty bag into the bottom of the wardrobe, Rose wandered off to find the Doctor. She found him in the console room, poking around under the console as he had been when she’d found him after changing into her dress on their Cardiff trip. She blushed a bit, remembering his reaction to that outfit, and then kicked herself mentally. Her growing crush on the Doctor felt increasingly inappropriate given the developments of the past couple days. The reminder of her technically being in a relationship, as well as the Doctor’s age (she’d known he was older, but the fifteen to twenty years she’d guessed was slightly off from the centuries actually involved). She couldn’t help it though; she was inexorably drawn to him. Shaking her head at herself, Rose settled down to sit on the grating, dangling her legs into the open space near the Doctor’s head.

“Rose Tyler!” he greeted her cheerfully. “All settled in, then?”

“Yup!” she answered, swinging her legs. “Stuck with me now!”  
The Doctor smiled up at her and boosted himself out of the space between the console, climbing to stand and reaching out a hand to pull her up. “Not so bad, that,” he answered. “Gets a bit echoey in here all on me own. Good to have some company.”

Rose gave him a tongue touched grin. “So where to next?” she asked.

“Thought you could use a bit of a rest,” he told her, “given the amount of sleep you humans need. But then I thought perhaps Snood. It’s a good starter planet for a new traveler; uninhabited by any developed lifeforms. It’s atmosphere is constantly shrouded in mist, and the shape of its orbit around its sun means that there are shifting rainbows all day, over the entire sky.”

“Sounds beautiful,” Rose agreed readily, squeezing his hand, which was somehow still wrapped around hers. “Thank you.” She was excited about the prospect of finally visiting another planet. So far, she’d only been to a space station and another time in Earth’s history. She couldn’t wait to explore a new world, and the thought of it pushed her trepidation about how she’d left things back in London out of her mind. How could she possibly have stayed when she had access to this? 

“Least I can do after almost blowing you up,” the Doctor quipped, dropping her hand and turning toward the console. His voice was light but his shoulders had tensed slightly. Rose frowned slightly and put a hand of his arm.

“Hey,” she told him, trying to catch his eye, “it’s fine. I’m fine.”

“You might not have been,” he answered, the forced cheer gone from his voice. “Your mum was right, it’s not safe, this life. I can’t promise you’ll be okay.”

“I never asked you to,” Rose stated firmly. “I’m nineteen, I’m not a child. I know the risks. But it’s worth it. We saved the world today!’

The Doctor relaxed slightly and looked back at her. “Yeah, we did.” 

Rose grinned at him again, and then on impulse used her hand on his forearm as leverage, pushing herself up on her toes to kiss him on the cheek. “I’m going to go have a bath and then go to bed,” she told him, dropping back on her heels. “Goodnight, Doctor.”

“Goodnight, Rose,” the Doctor responded with a soft smile. As she walked away, she didn’t see him raise his hand to his cheek and touch the place she’d kissed with a look of wonder on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actively looking for a beta if anyone is interested! Mostly someone to check for typos and flag OOC behavior or language, although plot suggestions are also appreciated.


	4. Entr'acte: Snood

Snood was, as the Doctor had promised, beautiful. They had parked the TARDIS on a wide, flat plain covered in tall, damp grass that smelled a bit like freshly baked bread and glistened with droplets of water. The air was cool, and humid but not uncomfortably so; the fog seemed to thin nearer to the ground and never reached a high density even higher up. Rays of sun slanted through, casting rainbows over entire swathes of air, almost like sheer, opalescent curtains. Rose trailed her fingers through the mist, enjoying the cool sheen that clung to her and the dappling of her skin with beams of multicolored light.

The Doctor hovered nearby, stance relaxed, arms crossed, smiling contentedly as he watched his companion marvel at the alien atmosphere. Her eyes sparkled in delight, and she hadn’t stopped smiling since they’d exited the ship. After awhile, she wandered over to him and grabbed him by the hand, pulling on him as she began to collapse into the tall grass.

“What are you doing?” he asked in amusement. “You’re going to get your clothes all wet.”

“I don’t care,” Rose smiled as he allowed himself to be pulled down next to her, “I’ve got others now, remember?” She flopped backwards until she lay flat on the ground, staring up at the undulating rainbows dancing across the sky, and he gamely reclined next to her, his body turned perpendicular to hers, his shorn head near where her golden hair fanned out on the ground. “‘S gorgeous here,” Rose sighed, gazing upwards. 

“Thought you might like it,” the Doctor responded. “The universe is actually full of wonders that aren’t trying to kill you, it turns out,” he added with a smirk.

Rose giggled. “Oh, I dunno. I quite like the danger, I think.”

The Doctor looked over at her in amusement. “Do you now? Convenient, that, since you seem to be particularly susceptible to peril.”

“Oi!” Rose laughed, smacking him on the arm. The Doctor chuckled. “No, but really though,” Rose continued, “My life was just so… predictable before I met you. And travelling; it’s only been a few days, but it’s just so… I’m seeing things I never would have even imagined existed, you know? Whole new worlds. And then on top of that, we’re saving lives! It’s mental, that. Never would’ve dreamed I’d ever be able to say I’d helped save anyone’s life, and yet here we are, fresh off stopping the destruction of the Earth.” She sighed happily. “I never thought I’d do anything worthwhile like that.”

“Who says what you were doing before wasn’t worthwhile?” the Doctor questioned her, sounding insulted on her behalf. Rose rolled her eyes.

“I worked in a shop, Doctor,” she returned. “Not exactly heroic, is it?”

“Could be, if someone needed to buy something,” the Doctor shrugged. “Besides, saving the universe? Not all it’s cracked up to be. Wouldn’t actually recommend it as a vocation, myself.”

“So why do ya keep doin’ it, then?” Rose queried, turning on her side to look at him, propping her head up on her hand.

“Can’t seem to help myself,” the Doctor sighed. “Too curious for my own good.”

Rose snorted and flopped back onto her back. “And you say I’m susceptible to peril.”

The Doctor chuckled, and they fell into a contented silence. 

“Doctor?” Rose asked after some time had passed.

“Yes, Rose?”

“Why did you invite me to travel with you?”

The Doctor was silent for a bit before he answered, his voice carefully casual. “You saved me from the Nestene Consciousness. Thought I owed you a bit of a thank you.”

“Oh.” Rose fell silent.

“Plus, I liked having you around,” the Doctor confessed after a brief hesitation. “Been on my own for awhile; had started to forget what it was like to enjoy someone’s company.”

“Yeah?” Rose bit her lip and rolled her head slightly so that she could see his face.

“Yeah.” The Doctor’s eyes had fallen closed, but the corners of his mouth turned up slightly. 

Rose smiled. “How long are you gonna let me travel with you?” she asked him softly.

“As long as you want, Rose Tyler.”

“Good.” With a happy sigh, Rose scooted herself over slightly, adjusting herself so that her head rested on the Doctor’s shoulder. After a moment’s hesitation, he brought his hand up to stroke her hair. They stayed that way for quite some time.

Eventually, the sun began to dip below the horizon, turning the vibrant pastel rainbows to more subtle jewel tones, and the temperature began to drop. A shiver from Rose broke the quiet spell of their rest, and the Doctor nudged his companion gently. 

“C’mon, Rose, let’s get you back in the TARDIS.”

Rose wrapped her arms around herself and nodded, allowing the Doctor to help her up and guide her back toward the blue box that was already beginning to feel like home. She leaned into his side and he wrapped an arm around her until they they reached the ship’s doors, where he released her to dig his TARDIS key from his pocket and let them in.

“‘S weird,” Rose said as they walked up the ramp into the console room and the Doctor began to press buttons and pull levers, releasing the TARDIS back into the Time Vortex. “We were there past sunset, but it doesn’t feel that late.”

The Doctor rolled his eyes at her, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the console. “It’s a time machine, Rose; just because you’d only been awake for a bit doesn’t mean we landed first thing in the morning. It was closer to early afternoon, Snood time. Besides, not every planet has 24-hour days. Snood’s are closer to fourteen, so the time from midday to sunset is closer to three and a half hours.

“So what time is it, then?” Rose asked curiously, refusing to be put off by his faux annoyance.

The Doctor sighed. “There is no time in the TARDIS, other than the time wherever we are at the moment. When we’re in the vortex, we’re everywhen at once.”

It was Rose’s turn to roll her eyes. Leaning back against one of the winding TARDIS coral struts, she mimicked the Doctor’s cross-armed pose, touching the toes of her trainers to the toes of his heavy black boots. “You know what I mean, stop being so literal. What time is it _for me_? Relatively speaking?”

The Doctor smirked but gave in. “Just after noon.”

Rose nudged his toe with hers and gave a tongue touched grin. “See, was that so hard? Now come on, let’s have some dinner.” Standing back up, she skipped off toward the galley. With an indulgent smile, the Doctor followed slowly after her.


	5. 1.6 Dalek

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may be my last chapter for a little bit! I've been knocking them out pretty quickly because I've been traveling for work and had some long flights that left me with time to kill, but I'm moving this weekend, so the next week or so will probably be full of packing and unpacking and all that nonsense. Hopefully I'll be able to get back to it soon!

**** The TARDIS had dematerialized almost as soon as Adam had stepped inside. Adam had… not handled it well. Which is to say, he had passed out.

“Oh for god’s sake,” the Doctor had snorted, crossing his arms incredulously.

Rose had just stood, looking down at his prone form, eyebrows raised. After a moment, she nudged him with her trainer-clad foot, garnering no response. “Great,” she sighed.

The Doctor looked from him back up to Rose, one eyebrow raised skeptically. “Well?”

Rose rolled her eyes at him, and then crouched next to Adam’s sprawled form, shaking him by the shoulder. “Adam? ADAM.”

“Huh? Wha?” Adam woke, looking blearily around himself. “What… oh god. What IS this place?”

The Doctor rolled his eyes toward the ceiling before addressing Rose sardonically. “Have fun with your new boyfriend. I’ll be in my room if you need me.” Rose looked up at him, but he’d already turned his back and walked out of the console room and down the corridor. She watched his retreating back for a moment, then turned back to Adam.

“Can you get up?” she asked him kindly, extending her hand to him.

“Yeah, I think so,” Adam said dazedly. Taking her extended palm, he stood with her. She quickly dropped his slightly damp palm.

“Welcome to the TARDIS,” she told him lamely, waving a hand vaguely around.

“TARDIS?” Adam asked.

“It’s our… his ship. His space ship. ‘S like he said, yeah? The Doctor’s an alien; last of his kind. This is his time and space ship.” She glanced around at it before looking back at him and adding, “It’s bigger on the inside,” with a shrug.

“Yeah, noticed that bit,” Adam answered dazedly.

“Do you, ah… want a tour or anything?” Rose asked him somewhat unenthusiastically.

“No,” Adam answered hurriedly. “Thanks,” he added as an afterthought. “It’s only… sorry, it’s a bit overwhelming, isn’t it? Guess I’m just a bit…” he trailed off. “Is there maybe somewhere I could lie down? It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah, ‘course,” Rose responded with no small amount of relief. “C’mon, just down here, I’ll show you a room you can use.”

After settling Adam into an empty bedroom, Rose leaned her back against a wall in the corridor, breath whooshing out of her. She was already realizing that inviting Adam along had been a bad plan. She wasn’t entirely sure why she’d done it. Well, okay, no, that wasn’t true. She’d had several reasons. His earlier attitude, talking about how he was a genius and then apologizing for it, so condescendingly. How he’d proceeded to explain the wonders of the stars to her as though he were granting her some life changing revelation, assuming he knew more than her when she’d actually been to the places he so certainly stated that humans couldn’t get to. And then, later, her confusions at the Doctor’s failure to contradict the Dalek when it had referred to her as the woman he loved (why hadn’t he just said she wasn’t?), followed so rapidly by his attempt to kill the creature in cold blood ( _ What are you becoming, Doctor? _ ). And okay, yes, Adam  _ was _ a bit pretty, and maybe Rose had wanted to impress him just a bit. It was a perfect storm really: irritation, confusion, fear, and a desperate need for a distraction.

It had been an impulsive decision, but here they were, so she’d have to make the best of it. Now that he was safely tucked away to rest, she needed to get back to what mattered. The Doctor’s assertion that he would be in his room worried her. This was the first time he’d gone there since she’d been on board that she knew of, and he was usually so derisive of her human need to rest that his admission that he might need to partake himself was concerning to her. Especially in conjunction with his distress over the Dalek.

“Help me find him?” she asked the TARDIS softly. She hadn’t tried to communicate with the ship since the Doctor had revealed that she was sentient, but since she’d been able to do things like provide a robe, Rose assumed she’d also have a way to guide her to the Doctor. Sure enough, some of the lights along the juncture between the wall and the floor lit up a bit brighter, guiding Rose deeper into the ship. The brighter path ended at an unremarkable door which was closed over but not latched, which Rose knocked on softly before pushing open.

“Doctor?” she asked softly. He was standing with his back to the door next to a large, plainly made up bed, and appeared to have been in the act of trying to remove his jacket, but was wincing noticeably. “Doctor, are you okay?” she asked, her voice a little louder, her concern audible.

The Doctor grimaced in pain as his jacket slipped the rest of the way off his shoulders and tossed it over the back of a straight backed wooden chair nearby. “Rose,” he greeted her. “Course I’m okay. Where’s your boyfriend, then?”

Rose huffed at him in irritation. The Doctor looked over his shoulder at her and raised an eyebrow. Rose rolled her eyes at him. “Adam was overwhelmed, so he’s gone to bed. Don’t try to distract me. Why are you moving like that?”

The Doctor shrugged, and then grimaced again. “Slight case of torture. The adrenaline kept the pain off for a bit, but now it’s making itself known.”

“What?!” Rose exclaimed, crossing to him quickly, “What d’you mean, torture?”

“Van Statten collected aliens,” the Doctor said, his voice carefully casual. “I’m the last of my kind. Couldn’t resist, could he?”

Rose put her hands on either side of his face and made him meet her gaze. His expressive blue eyes were full of pain, both physical and emotional, and she could feel herself tearing up a bit at his distress. Gently, she ran her thumbs across his cheeks; his eyes closed in response as he let out a shaky breath, the artifice of “always okay” dropping away momentarily. Carefully, Rose pulled the Doctor into a hug. His head drooped to her shoulder for a moment before he brought his arms around back.

“I’m so sorry,” Rose whispered into the side of his head.

“I almost killed you,” the Doctor murmured, his voice unsteady.

“I told you, that wasn’t your fault,” Rose chastised him quietly. “You were trying to save people. I was the one who healed it.”

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he mumbled into her shoulder.

“’S’okay,” she told him, “I get it. The Daleks killed your people. I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

The Doctor snorted. “Doubt it’ll be the last time that happens.”

“Yeah well,” Rose grinned, stroking the back of his head, ruffling his short, soft hair, “don’t point any more giant alien weapons at me and we should be okay.” Her hands dropped back to her sides as the Doctor straightened, cheerful mask snapping back into place as he stepped away from her. “You sure you’re alright?” she asked him again.

“Always,” he responded. “Just have to rest up a bit and I’ll be good as new. Fast healers, Time Lords. Should be right as rain by morning.”

“Kay,” Rose answered, “good. I’ll just let you do that, then.” The Doctor gave her a small smile as she turned back toward the door, making to leave. She had the door halfway open before she seemed to second guess herself, biting her lip. “Doctor?”

“Rose?”

“Do… would you want me to stay?” Rose’s question was hesitant, her wish to take care of him warring with her need to not further muddy the waters of what, exactly, their relationship was. The Doctor waited several beats to answer her. Rose kept her back to him, her body tense.

“I’ll be fine,” he finally stated softly, “but thank you for asking.”

“’Course,” Rose answered, head dropping slightly. She began to move again, continuing her exit from the Doctor’s inner sanctum. “Goodnight, Doctor.”

“Goodnight, Rose.”

 


	6. 1.7 The Long Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! All settled in to my new apartment, and ready to get back to this thing :) Thanks for bearing with me!

 

Now that the rush of defeating an evil alien built on domination of the human race had ended, Rose was feeling extremely stupid. She couldn’t BELIEVE that she had fallen for Adam’s bullshit. He had played her so perfectly, capitalizing on her empathy as a recently new time and space traveler. She had been so willing to see her own early shock at TARDIS travel in him that she hadn’t even questioned his being “overwhelmed” and wanting to separate from her, despite his obvious earlier fascination with the brain spike. And then, AND THEN, he had thrown in the bit about not being a good enough man to get between her and the Doctor, playing into the exact train of thought that occupied so many of her thoughts these days, and she had fallen hook, line, and sinker for his sad rejected puppy story and let him go on his merry way to try to undermine human history for his own profit. Wanker. 

Rose closed the TARDIS door behind her as she exited Adam’s mother’s house and hurried to catch up with the Doctor as he walked up the ramp toward the console. Jogging slightly, she managed to reach him and grab his hand, pulling him to face her before he could start the dematerialization sequence.

“I’m sorry,” she said without prelude, her voice pleading. 

The Doctor raised his eyebrows at her in surprise. “What for?”

“You know,” Rose waved her free hand back vaguely at the TARDIS door, “Adam, basically. Bringin’ him along. I’m sorry.” 

The Doctor gave her a sympathetic smile as he detached his hand from hers and went about setting the TARDIS into motion, it’s familiar  _ whoosh _ soon filling the room. “Not your fault,” he told her, eyes now on the various screens. “You’re not the first person to be fooled by a pretty face. Besides, it’s my ship, I could have told you no.” Rose walked around and sat on the jump seat, dangling her legs. She watched the Doctor move around, relaxing a bit as she basked in the now-familiar scene. After flipping a few switches and pressing a couple buttons, he made a discontented sound and crouched to remove one of the panels of grating, lowering himself into the gap to presumedly make some repair or adjustment. 

“That’s not what it was, you know,” Rose said eventually, breaking the silence. 

“Hmm?” The Doctor responded absentmindedly, his sonic between his teeth. Holding a few wires with one hand, he reclaimed the sonic with the other and used it to… well, Rose didn’t know, really. Flash lights at something. “Not what what was?”

“Adam. I didn’t bring him because he was pretty.” Rose clarified.

The Doctor snorted, not looking up from his work. “Well, it certainly wasn’t his winning personality.”

Rose giggled a little. “Nah. I just… I dunno. Coming with you, it changed my life. I sort of wanted to do that for someone else, you know?” The Doctor made a noncommittal sound. “...Also, he was a bit of a smug bastard, if I’m being honest, and I wanted to show ‘im he didn’t know as much as he thought he did,” Rose admitted sheepishly. The Doctor chuckled. “Anyway, I really am sorry,” Rose finished.

The Doctor looked up at her, his eyes level with her feet. “Water under the bridge,” he reassured her. “I told you, not your fault. You weren’t the one who tried to steal future technology for your own personal gain.”

“‘Kay,” Rose answered him with a grin, “Thanks.” She jumped off the seat, stretching. The Doctor’s eyes surreptitiously followed the languid movement of her body, snapping back to the wires he was fiddling with as she looked down at him. “I’m glad it’s just us again, though,” she added after a moment, thinking back to the moment in the elevator, when he had grinned down at her and taken her hand. The Doctor glanced back up at her and grinned briefly, mirroring his earlier expression.

“Me too.”

_ Shit _ , she thought to herself as her heart lurched at the sight of that toothy grin.  _ I really am falling for him, aren’t I? Inconvenient, that. Can’t imagine it’s going to end well for me. _

“Anyway!” Rose said cheerfully, giving herself a mental shake and beginning to move toward the hall, “I’m gonna go read for a bit. You wanna join?”

“Be there in a bit,” the Doctor assured her.

 

**************

 

Sprawled across the sofa in the library, Rose couldn’t concentrate on her book. Adam had been a disaster, it was true, but frankly she had other things on her mind that required a bit more analyzation than the ill-advised invitation. She’d realized, when she was bound on Floor 500 with the Doctor, before Cathica had set the Jagrafess’ downfall in action, that she wasn't scared. No, she was…  _ annoyed _ . She, Rose Tyler, shop girl and resident of the Powell Estate, had been captured by a giant murderous stomach with teeth and his frozen corpse sidekicks, and she was ANNOYED. 

She wondered if she’d become braver since traveling with the Doctor, or if she’d just finally been presented with opportunities to show bravery that she never would have had otherwise. She liked who she was when she was with the Doctor.  _ I only take the best _ , he’d said, and she could tell he meant it. This centuries old alien genius saw something in her that made her worthy of his time - something that Adam, for all his education and supposed intelligence, hadn’t had. No wonder her feelings for him were increasingly seeming like more than a crush. He saw her in a way she wasn’t sure anyone else ever had. He didn’t see her Estate upbringing as a deciding factor in how far she could go in life. He didn’t look down on her for not having finished school. He didn’t treat her like a child even though she was centuries his junior. He thought she asked the right questions, was worth listening to, was a worthwhile companion on his adventures. He saw HER. How could she not love him for that?

Said alien walked into the library to join Rose at that moment. Grabbing an in-progress book from the coffee table, he looked down at her expectantly.

“Budge up, then,” he said, using his head to indicate how she had managed to take over the entire sofa, and with an impish grin, she swung herself around to make room for him to plop down before promptly curling up into his side. The Doctor absentmindedly brushed a kiss across the top of her head before opening his book and beginning to read. Rose flushed slightly, keeping her head down so that he wouldn’t see, and reopened her own book, determinedly focusing on the story and not the seemingly unconscious show of affection. Oh, she was in trouble.


	7. 1.8 Father's Day

Rose dropped the Doctor’s hand almost as soon as they walked in the TARDIS door. He was being so kind and conscientious in the aftermath of her father’s death, and she couldn’t take it. She didn’t deserve it. 

“It’s been a long day,” she told him quietly, not meeting his concerned gaze. “I’m just gonna…” she gestured vaguely toward the hallway.

“You sure?” the Doctor asked her, trying to catch her eye. She nodded, letting her hair fall into her face to hide the tears that she was struggling to keep from falling. 

“I… yeah. Thanks for… thanks.” She trailed off, not sure what to say, and then awkwardly made her way from the room. The Doctor’s eyes trailed after her, but he didn’t follow. Once she hit the hall, she broke into a run, barely making it through her bedroom door before her tears began to fall in earnest. Closing the door behind her, she slumped against it, stifling a sob with her fist. Helpless, she felt herself slide down the door until she was sitting on the floor, her head falling forward onto her knees, her tears now flowing freely as sobs wracked her body.

Rose didn’t think she had ever felt more terrible in her entire life. She had thought that she had saved her father’s life, only to find that she had imperiled the entire world. She had broken the Doctor’s trust. She had said HORRIBLE things to him. She’d caused his death, albeit temporarily, and his rescue was no thanks to her. And in the end, she’d still had to watch her father die. Not only that, she had sent him knowingly to his death. 

And the Doctor… the Doctor had forgiven her. Sure, he’d yelled at her first, called her a stupid ape, accused her of using him. But despite all that, he’d forgiven her. She’d killed people with her selfishness, caused the literal end of the world, and all he’d asked for was a “sorry.” And then he’d sacrificed himself to keep her safe. To keep her father safe. To protect her from the heartache of losing her dad, a man who she’d never even really known. 

And her dad… oh, her dad. He wasn’t the man she expected, the paragon that her mum had described to her for so many years, and yet she had loved him, immediately and unconditionally. She had trusted him, and he had trusted her, for no reason at all other than that it felt right. She had told him things that she hadn’t even admitted to herself yet, like that her relationship with Mickey was over. And in the end, he had died for her. He had died for all of them. To save the world.

Rose leaned back against the door and rubbed her hands down her face as her sobbing slowed to the occasional sniffle. She was beginning to feel numb. She had been handed the most miraculous opportunity — the chance to explore all of space and time with a brilliant man who asked nothing of her but her company — and she had squandered it. She had acted impulsively, she had ignored his warnings, and she had almost killed them all because she wasn’t strong enough to bear losing one man who she barely knew. The Doctor had lost his entire planet, all of his family, all of his _species_ , and she was too selfish and weak to handle even one millionth of his pain. He was going to take her home, she was sure. He SHOULD take her home. He’d had faith in her, and she’d betrayed his trust.

Suddenly, Rose was utterly exhausted. Her arms and legs feeling like lead, she hauled herself to her feet and managed to change into a pair of loose, comfortable pajamas. Without bothering to wash her face or brush her teeth, she climbed onto her soft, welcoming bed for what might be the last time. With a sniffle, she curled onto her side, staring vacantly at the wall in front of her, her heart bruised, her eyes rimmed in red, her face tight from dried tears. 

A soft knock sounded at her door. “Rose?” the Doctor asked softly. “May I come in?”

“‘Course,” Rose answered after a moment, the sound coming out strained, her voice scratchy. This was it, she thought. This was when he told her that she couldn’t travel with him anymore, that she was too big of a liability. She couldn’t bring herself to sit up to receive his verdict, so she stayed curled on her side. 

The door opened, and for once the Doctor entered fully, rather than just sticking his head in. He sat down on the edge of her bed, facing the same wall she’d been starting at. He sat silently for a few moments, and then sighed. _This is it,_ she thought again. 

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. 

“What?” Rose responded, taken aback. This was not what she’d expected at all.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, turning his head to look at her. “I never should have taken you there. I should have explained better what could happen. I wasn’t fair to you. I’m sorry.”

“No,” Rose replied, biting her lip, “it was my fault. I was so stupid, and so selfish. You told me not to and I just… I couldn’t…” She squeezed her eyes closed as they began to fill with tears once more. “I killed you,” she whimpered. “I didn’t listen, and I killed you, and he still died. He still died.” She began to cry again in earnest. “I’m so sorry,” she sobbed, “I’m so, so sorry.” 

“Shh, Rose,” the Doctor soothed her, stroking her hair with his calloused hand. “It’s okay. We’re okay.” Carefully, he toed off his boots and removed his leather jacket before lying down beside her and pulling her into his chest. “Shhhh,” he hushed her again as he tucked her head under his chin. “It’s okay now. It’ll all be okay.” He tilted his head down and pressed his lips to the top of her head as she curled into him, sobbing into his jumper, clinging to the dampening fabric with tight fists. 

The Doctor held the sobbing Rose, rubbing her back and murmuring soothing sounds and words, until she had cried herself out. Then he pulled back slightly, bringing his hand up to push her hair behind her ear and run his thumb over her tear stained cheek. Rose looked up at him, eyes sad.

“Are…” she stumbled over her words and cleared her throat. “Are you gonna take me home now?” Her voice was quiet, and sounded exhausted and resigned.

“Do you want to go home?” the Doctor asked her softly. Holding his gaze, Rose firmly shook her head no. He pressed his forehead to hers briefly before shifting her head and kissing her gently where their heads and just touched. “No, Rose. I won’t make you go home.” 

With a relieved sob, Rose wrapped her arms tightly around him, pulling herself even more tightly into his firm chest and burying her face in his jumper, pressing a firm kiss over each of his hearts. 

“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice muffled as she kept her face pressed closely to him. “Thank you Doctor.”

The Doctor held her close, stroking her hair as she allowed herself to be calmed by the soothing double beat of his hearts, her breathing eventually slowing until she finally fell asleep in his arms.

When she woke up the next morning, she was alone.


	8. Entr’acte: Women Wept

They didn’t discuss the Doctor’s disappearance from Rose’s room. There wasn’t anything to discuss, really. She knew that he didn’t sleep much, and that he was filled with a nervous energy that kept him moving forward at all times. The idea of him staying in bed with her while she slept was a little disconcerting, if she was honest with herself. She didn’t know what she would have done if he’d still been there when she’d woken up.

He didn’t pretend it hadn’t happen, though. He was the Doctor, and he expressed himself in his own ways. His way of handling her mourning was to take her to a planet called Women Wept, where she could walk upon a continent that shared her pain.

Wrapped up in a parka, scarf, and hat, arms crossed tightly and hands tucked into her armpits, Rose walked down the deserted beach, tracing with her feet the curve of the crying woman’s back where she curled in on herself, holding her own broken heart. The Doctor leaned against the TARDIS, watching her but not interrupting. Rose’s eyes traced over the glistening ice waves, frozen forever in time as they crested toward the shore. The sky and the ice were a pale, endless grey; the sand, striated with beige and black. The beach was silent except for the low whisper of a soft, cold wind and the sound of her boots crunching on the untouched sand.

“It’s beautiful,” she murmured, her voice carrying across the empty coast back to the Doctor. “But it’s so sad.”

“Sometimes sadness can be beautiful,” the Doctor answered, walking up behind her and wrapping his arms around her body. “When we mourn something, we acknowledge its importance. If losing it didn’t hurt, it probably wasn’t worth having. There’s solace in knowing that. That’s beautiful, in a way.”

She sighed and leaned back against him, tilting her head up to look at the strong outline of his jaw as he gazed out at the frozen waves. 

“Is that how you feel about your people?” she asked him softly. 

He swallowed and didn’t look down to meet her eyes. “No,” he answered quietly. She nodded in understanding and looked back out at the ocean, letting the warmth of his body and the beat of his hearts join with the whisper of the wind and the scent of the ice as she used the desolate, beautiful beach to say goodbye to her father and the life that she might have had, had he only lived. Closing her eyes, she let him go.

Turning in the Doctor’s arms, she looked up at him, and this time he tilted his head down to meet her gaze.

“Thank you, Doctor,” she murmured, and he nodded in understanding. Moving her hands to his shoulders, Rose lifted herself onto her toes and kissed him softly. His eyes fell closed as he responded, carefully kissing her back without either of them making any move to deepen it. It wasn’t a kiss of passion, but one of understanding and shared pain, of finding beauty in loss, of solace and togetherness and knowledge that nothing lasts forever. 

Pulling away, Rose slid her hand down the Doctor’s arm and into his hand. He squeezed her fingers and gave her a soft smile, and together, they walked back to their ship — their home — ready to move forward and lose themselves in the infinite possibilities of the universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is bonkers short, but I’m really happy with it, and felt like it should stand on its own. I hope you like it anyway!


	9. 1.9-1.10 The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please note the ratings change! Things are about to get smutty. More notes at the end. (This is my first attempt at smut, so please be kind)

They’d danced, they’d laughed, and they’d gone off to bed. Rose had escorted the incorrigible Captain Jack to a vacant room down the hall from hers, where he’d made the requisite invitation to join him before kissing her hand, telling her goodnight, and entering the room alone, closing the door with a wink. Rise had grinned and shaken her head before returning to her own quarters. Jack was handsome and charming, and she was entertained by his overt flirting, but in the short time she’d known him she’d already ascertained that he was an equal-opportunity flirt. Although he’d cut in to dance with her briefly, he’d also stolen a dance with the Doctor (who had been a surprisingly good sport about it, but then, she’d also seen him flirt with a tree so she supposed she shouldn’t be surprised), whose scandalized “Oi, watch the hands, _Captain!_ ” indicated to Rose that Jack would have been equally pleased if either of them had joined him in his new bedroom.

They hadn’t discussed how long Jack would be staying, but somehow, Rose suspected that he might stick around for a bit. Unlike Adam, he already had experience with time and space travel, and not only that, he’d been willing to sacrifice himself for the greater good. The Doctor seemed to like him, despite his gruffness toward the man. Rose grinned to herself as she closed her bedroom door behind her. Something told her things were going to get pretty interesting around here for awhile.

Changing into an oversized tee and a pair of cotton sleep shorts, Rose went to wash her face and brush her teeth in preparation for sleep. Her thoughts wandered to the Doctor, and his visible case of Captain Envy. When their conversation in the basement had started, she really had been talking about dancing in the traditional sense. However, over the course of the conversation, it had come to mean something else — something she hadn’t allowed herself to think she might have with the Doctor. She knew he cared about her — he hadn’t been shy about making that clear. And she knew he found her attractive; in addition to his comments in Cardiff, she’d caught him looking at her with admiration more than once. Yet somehow, she hadn’t really hoped that her feelings for him, and whatever his were for her, could ever lead to anything romantic or sexual between them. Whatever they had, it felt simultaneously more and less than that. In appreciation for the ‘more,’ she’d been hesitant to address the ‘less.’ 

Yet with Adam, the Doctor had definitely been jealous, repeatedly referring to him as her “boyfriend” with audible disdain, and not hiding his pleasure particularly well when the tagalong had turned out to be a self-involved liar. And with Jack — well, the Doctor had staked his claim fairly clearly over the course of the evening’s dancing, at least initially. Although she had also danced with Jack, the preponderance of Rose’s evening had been spent in the Doctor’s arms — first, twirling about and laughing, but later on, held close to his chest as they swayed slowly. However, he’d excused himself abruptly shortly after that, directing Jack and Rose to stay out of trouble and turn in soon. Rose was sure that he’d sensed the shifting mood between them, and equally sure that his departure was based on an uncertainty of what to do about it. She also thought that he might have been giving her the opportunity to go off with Jack, were she so inclined. He’d shown more than once that he wasn’t necessarily aware of how she felt about him. It was very like him to decide that Jack was her newest “boyfriend” and retreat. He did let her make her choices, even when he didn’t like them. He’d also probably pout about it rather than say anything, however. He may be almost a millennium old, but sometimes, the Doctor still had a tendency to behave a bit like a surly teenager.

Replacing her toothbrush in its holder, Rose looked at herself in the mirror over her sink. She could feel that they were at a crossroads. She could go to bed, and in the morning they could continue adventuring as they had been, continuing to ignore their increasing dependence on each other, or…

Taking a deep breath, Rose made a decision. Whether it became anything more or not, she needed the Doctor to know that when she had a choice, she would choose him. She would always choose him. Determinedly, she exited her en suite and then her room, padding barefoot down the TARDIS’s hall to the Doctor’s door. Steeling herself, she turned the knob and entered.

The Doctor was lying on top of his bed, fully clothed apart from his boots and coat, staring at the ceiling and flipping his sonic absently in his hand. He looked over as she came in, catching the sonic and sitting up, meeting her eye and looking slightly surprised. Rose closed the door quietly behind her and stood for minute, her eyes on his, her hands still behind her on the doorknob, neither of them saying anything. Hesitantly, she dropped her hands and walked over to the bed, climbing up to kneel next to him. Slowly, her gaze never leaving his, she leaned forward, giving him plenty of time to pull away. He didn’t, and eventually her lips brushed softly against his, lingering sweetly for a moment before she pulled back and found his gaze again. It was a more hesitant kiss than the one they’d shared on Women Wept, and yet it held a tension of possibility and promise that the other had not. When he didn’t move to stop her, she leaned back in, kissing him again with more intention, her lips parting slightly over his, the tip of her tongue teasing him as he raised a hand to her cheek and gently kissed her back. When she pulled back again, his eyes searched hers questioningly. 

She bit her lip self consciously before quietly entreating him, “Dance with me, Doctor?” He stared at her, taking a moment to reassure himself that she meant what he thought she meant. Growing nervous at his lack of response, Rose glanced down and made to move away from him, but he grasped her wrist to keep her from going

“You’re sure?” He asked her.

“Yes,” she responded without hesitation, raising her face to meet his eyes in challenge.

He gazed at her in awe, his blue eyes wide with wonder and disbelief.

And then it was like a fire had caught. His eyes blazed and his hands flew to tangle in her hair and he pulled her in and then he was kissing her fiercely, his lips claiming hers, his teeth nipping at her bottom lip, his tongue meeting hers in a desperate battle. Months of uncertainty and longing melted away as they moved together, giving in to what now felt like the inevitable.

Shifting but not breaking the kiss, Rose climbed onto his lap, straddling him so that her she rested on her shins, her knees at his hips. Clinging to his shoulders, pulling him close, she gave as good as she got, her lips and tongue sliding against his, speaking wordlessly of lust and adoration and _yes_ and _finally._ She could feel his hardness through his jeans; feel warmth coiling in her lower belly in response, her inner muscles clenching in anticipation.

The Doctor’s hands slid through Rose’s hair and down her back, finding and gliding under the hem of her shirt and skimming over the smooth skin of her lower back. Pulling away slightly, he grasped the bottom of the shirt firmly and pulled it over her head, baring her from the waist up. Rose returned the favor, quickly divesting him of his jumper before diving back in to kiss him again. With the grace and speed of a jungle cat; the Doctor grasped her around the waist and flipped them over, pinning her roughly to the mattress with his hips and lips. His fingers slid under the waistband of her shorts, and shifting to kneel beside her legs, he yanked them and her knickers off in one go, leaving her naked before him.

Rose reached up to tug at his jeans, and the Doctor swiftly acquiesced to her silent demand, removing what was left of his clothing before moving between her knees and sliding on top of her, skin against skin, her curves soft against the hard planes of his muscled torso, his hardness pushing against her hip. He braced himself above her on one forearm, kissing her again fiercely while skating his free hand up her ribs and over her breast, tweaking one nipple sharply and making her gasp into his mouth before sliding his hand back down and between her legs, slipping two fingers between her folds and groaning at the wetness he found there.

The Doctor pulled back to meet her gaze once more, his eyes begging permission, and Rose looked back at him at him with surety and trust. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she reached between them and moved his hand before positioning his hard length at her entrance. There would be time for exploring other nights; right now she just wanted him inside of her, fully and completely. Lowering his forehead to hers and closing his eyes, the Doctor sank slowly into her tight, slippery heat until he was seated deep inside her. 

“Rose,” he groaned, his voice full of gratitude and love and wonder.

“My Doctor,” she answered him, running her thumbs over her cheeks before sliding her hands around his neck and hugging him close.

The Doctor began to move, sliding in and out of her, smoothly and steadily at first, setting a slow, worshipful rhythm. Before long, however, his thrusts grew gradually harder and faster until Rose could do nothing but cling to him, biting into his shoulder to stifle her moans. She could feel the heat building in her as the coarse hairs around the base of the Doctor’s shaft rubbed against her clit, the friction driving her closer and closer to oblivion. The Doctor pounded roughly into her, his rhythm now punishing, his breathing heavy, and she soon felt the world turn upside down as her orgasm hit her with the force and inevitability of a crashing wave, the Doctor following soon after, emptying into her with a groan as she clenched, pulsing helplessly around him.

The Doctor collapsed on top of Rose, kissing her shoulder and neck in silent thanks before pushing himself off of her slightly. The pair rolled to the side, Rose’s top leg still wrapped around the Doctor’s hip, gazing at each other as their panting breaths began to slow toward normal. Rose reached out a hand and stroked the Doctor’s prominent cheekbone gently.

“Okay?” she asked him softly. He leaned forward slightly and pressed a kiss to her forehead before smiling gently at her.

“Fantastic,” he murmured. 

She smiled back and then disentangled herself from him and slid off the bed, making her way to the Doctor’s en suite. When she emerged again, he had put his jeans back on, and she gathered her sleep things and dressed before walking back over to the bed. Talking one of the Doctor’s hands in hers, she squeezed it gently and smiled at him once more, then slipped out the door and back down the hall to her own room. The Doctor, his eyes soft and full of emotion, watched her go.

*************

After that night, the Doctor, Jack, and Rose found a new pattern together. Rose and the Doctor’s daylight interactions didn’t change, except that some of the tension that the Doctor had always carried with him seemed to have dissipated. He was quicker to laugh, and less prone to jealousy or anger. The three of them visited a myriad of worlds together, some beautiful and peaceful, some in desperate need of saving. They grew to operate like a well oiled machine, making and executing plans like they’d always been a team, to the point where they often finished each other's sentences. 

They had an easy affection with each other. Jack’s technical prowess, knowledge of other species, and penchant for flirting his way out of trouble had saved them all on more than one occasion, to the point where even the Doctor had to admit he was a valuable asset to the team. He didn’t even object too much when Jack flirted with Rose, once he came to see just how widespread Jack’s attractions were. For Jack, a come on was akin to a handshake. And anyway, when Jack went off to bed at night (usually on the TARDIS, but occasionally with a friendly local encountered during the day’s adventures), Rose belonged to the Doctor.

They didn’t talk about what it meant, but then, they’d never talked much about what they meant to each other. Rose and the Doctor had always done whatever felt right when it came to each other. Rose had run off with him without a second thought. They trusted each other with their lives implicitly. Once the unspoken boundary had been crossed, becoming physically involved felt as natural as breathing.

They never spent the entire night together; the Doctor still rarely slept, and Rose preferred time to herself in the mornings to shake off her dream state and prepare herself for the day ahead. Most nights, however, one of them would come to the other, and they would spend hours learning each other’s bodies. The Doctor catalogued the taste and feel of every inch of Rose’s skin, obsessively memorizing how each flick of his tongue or caress of his long, calloused fingers made her gasp or moan. Rose explored the Doctor like a new land, noting where to graze him with her teeth to make him curse, what pressure to use to make him exhale her name like a prayer, and how to move above him to make him lose his ability to speak completely. 

On days when their travels had been carefree, they made love joyfully, teasing and tickling and basking in their closeness. Her laughter would ring through the room, and his grin would shine like a sun. On days when there had been danger and fear and pain, they fucked passionately, fast and hard and desperate, reassuring themselves that they had survived, that they would always survive. He would leave bite marks on her shoulders, and her fingernails would leave half moons along his back. Together, they shared their bodies to celebrate and to mourn, to affirm and to reassure. And then Rose would go to sleep and the Doctor would go to tinker or read or occasionally rest, and in the morning they would collect Jack from whatever trouble he’d gotten up to and they would run off together to the next planet or time period that struck their fancy.

The Doctor and Rose and Jack on the TARDIS, traveling through time and space, having adventures. In a way that none of them could have put into words, they formed an odd little family. If they had been asked, they all would have said that they would have been content to carry on as they were forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm trying to keep this fic cannon compliant to the best of my abilities, and I know some will disagree, but honestly, I think this can be read that way! I rewatched a couple times, and I think that the Doctor's lightheartedness and comfort with Jack and Mickey in the next episode makes a lot more sense if you figure in some sort of affirmation that he knows where Rose's heart lies. I also think that Rose and the Doctor having a physical relationship but not being verbal about how they feel for each other would be consistent with Rose's reactions when the Doctor eventually regenerates, and her sense of betrayal around Sarah Jane and Reinette. Feel free to disagree of course, but that's how I'm justifying this to myself!


	10. 1.11 Boom Town

_“How's Mickey?”_  
_“He's okay. He's gone.”_  
_“Do you want to go and find him? We'll wait.”_  
_“No need. He deserves better.”_

Rose felt absolutely wretched. 

The day had started so well. She’d had such a lovely time sharing a meal with Jack, the Doctor, and Mickey. The Doctor had been on his best behavior, barely needling Mickey at all as they all swapped stories and shared banter. Mickey had integrated into their little team like he’d been there all along, syncing phones and monitoring exit paths as they chased down Margaret, the final Slitheen who had escaped them what felt like lifetimes ago. 

When it was just Mickey and Rose, though, she’d just made mistake after mistake. She’d behaved so absurdly, first promising to share a hotel room with Mickey and then acting like a jealous child when she’d found out he was seeing someone new. She barely recognized herself. It was like she’d slipped back into the skin of the girl she’d been before she’d started traveling with the Doctor, taking such a myopic view of things. She hated it.

She’d known for ages that she and Mickey were over. She’d said as much. She’d certainly acted like it, flirting with Adam and Jack, and then seducing the Doctor. More than that, falling in love with the Doctor. And yet she hadn’t had the guts to tell Mickey so, to let him go. She’d liked having that tie to home, the idea of someone waiting for her back on Earth who would be there to catch her if the dream she’d been living fell apart. 

It was so selfish. Mickey had been there for her, as a friend and then as a boyfriend, for so many years, and she’d treated him as disposable. Sure, he didn’t have a spaceship or a tragic backstory or stormy eyes that broke her heart with their depth of emotion, but he was a good bloke. A good friend. He’d been right to yell at her. He’d been right to move on. He really did deserve better.

And then the Doctor. Oh, the Doctor. How he’d changed in the short months since they’d brought Jack aboard; since they’d silently acknowledged their need for one another and expressed through their bodies what they hadn’t been able to in words. Once upon a time, he’d have been in a state for days after watching her go off with Mickey. But today, he’d been understanding. She could tell from his voice that he was aware of what Mickey had asked, of what she’d offered. But he didn’t fume or pout; he knew where he stood, and was there to support her as she dealt with the repercussions of taking too long to make a choice. 

Rose hadn’t realized she’d just been hovering inside the TARDIS doors looking lost until she felt Jack’s hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, Rosie,” he asked her gently, “you okay?”

Rose let out a sigh. “Yeah. Sorry. It’s just… I feel like a right cow, you know? I don’t know what I was thinking, leaving him there like that, never bothering to tell him it was over. I should’ve done it ages ago. Now he hates me, and I’ve lost my oldest friend. It hurts, and it’s my fault.”

Jack pulled her into a hug, and Rose buried her head in his shoulder.

“Oh, Rose,” he told her on a sigh. “It’s just growing pains. You haven’t lost him, I’m sure of it. He’ll forgive you. He loves you.”

Rose sniffled. “He shouldn’t. I don’t know why he does.”

Jack laughed. “Who wouldn’t? People can’t help themselves. You’re like a magnetic force; no one can resist. I know I couldn’t,” he finished, pulling back and giving her a roguish wink. 

Rose laughed tearily as the Doctor walked up to them, wiping grease off his hands with a rag.

“Watch it, Harkness,” he warned with an unconvincing scowl, “Hands off the blonde.”

“Well you won’t let me put them on you!” Jack countered. Pointing at the Doctor and Rose in turn, he continued playfully, “Honestly, the two of you should learn to share.” The Doctor rolled his eyes and Rose giggled. 

“No, but seriously, Rose,” Jack continued, “Could you have handled things better? Probably, yeah. But that doesn’t make you a bad person. You didn’t want to hurt him, so you avoided the problem, hoping it would go away on its own. You’re far from the first person to use that tactic, and you won’t be the last.”

“I shoulda told him, though,” Rose rebutted.

“When?” the Doctor asked her. “When you first ran off with only a second’s thought, or when I brought you back a year later and everyone thought he murdered you? Were you supposed to break his heart over the phone while asking him to fire missiles to blow up Downing Street?”

“I guess not,” Rose hedged, “but still. I wasn’t fair to him today.”

“No, you weren’t,” the Doctor agreed, taking her shoulders and looking her in the eye, “but we all do stupid things when we get jealous, sometimes.”

Rose took a deep breath and nodded, putting one of her hands over his in thanks.

“So!” the Doctor started, releasing her and backing toward the console while grinning at his two companions, “We need to get Baby Blon here back to Raxacoricofallapatorius, and then I think we’ve earned a little R&R. How do you feel about Japan?”

“Japan sounds lovely,” Rose smiled, wiping her eyes. Jack grinned cheekily and made a bawdy joke that she didn’t register, trying to get herself back together and pick up the threads of the contented life she’d been living just a day before.

“Fantastic,” the Doctor responded with another grin, and he and Jack began pulling levers and pushing buttons in tandem as they moved the TARDIS back into the vortex. 

Rose didn’t go to the Doctor’s bedroom that night. She needed some time to wallow in her feelings around the official dissolution of her relationship with Mickey, and to think about her ever decreasing ties to the place she had called home for the first nineteen years of her life. She knew the Doctor would understand. She would make it up to him later.


	11. 1.12-1.13 Bad Wolf/The Parting of Ways

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another *very* short one, but I felt like at this point there was very little to say, especially because the next episode follows so closely after this one. I promise you'll get more of Rose's thoughts on regeneration once she knows what the hell is going on.
> 
> See you for Season 2 soon!

It had all happened so fast.

They’d been on the TARDIS, laughing at their close scrape in Kyoto. Then she’d been on the GameStation, playing a deadly game of trivia on 198,000 years of history that she’d missed. Then she’d been on a Dalek ship. Then the Doctor and Jack had come for her, and they’d been back on the GameStation, preparing to save the world, just like they always did.

Like they always did.

And then he’d sent her home. After all they’d been through, everything they’d been to each other, he’d lied to her, and packed her off with nothing but a hologram to tell her goodbye.

She’d been back in London. Then she’d been back on the TARDIS. Then she’d… she couldn’t remember. But then it had all been okay. She’d come to on the console room floor, and the Doctor had saved the day, and it was all going to be fine.

And then… then he’d burned.

It had all happened so fast. 

Rose stood, staring, devastated, paralyzed by shock and grief and disbelief. She’d never even told him she loved him. She thought he knew, but she’d never said. She had been going to save him. She knew that she had gone back to save him.

She hadn’t saved him.

The Doctor was dead, and a stranger was standing on the TARDIS in his place.

The Doctor was dead.

She’d run away with a strange man with a blue box. She’d fought aliens and met Charles Dickens and danced on an invisible spaceship tethered to Big Ben during the London blitz. She’d been backwards and forwards and to the very ends of the Earth and she had fallen in love with a beautiful, broken man who had let her into his carefully guarded heart and she had found a family and a home and now it was all gone.

It had all happened so fast.


	12. 2.1 The Christmas Invasion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, y'all! Season 2!

Rose Tyler had had a weird day, she reflected as she flopped once again on her bed in the TARDIS, finally showered and in her pajamas. In fact, if she had to quantify it, she might even say it was weirder than the day that she met the Doctor and traveled to the literal end of the earth with him. At the time, she’d thought that was the strangest a day could be. It was charmingly naïve, in retrospect.

Today (or, in the past twenty four hours or so, linear time, she thought. It was honestly hard to keep track anymore.) she had watched the man she loved die and be reborn as someone entirely new, yet entirely the same. She’d run from killer Santa robots, escaped a rogue Christmas tree, been kidnapped by aliens (again...in fact, for the third time this week, now that she thought about it; fourth if you counted the Doctor sending her off against her will), re-met the prime minister, watched the Doctor get his hand cut off and immediately grow a new one, witnessed an execution-by-satsuma, gaped as her once-domesticity-averse Doctor willingly joined in for human holiday traditions, and frolicked in the ashes of a decimated spaceship. 

A weird day, indeed. She was exhausted.

She’d been massively traumatized by everything at first, of course. The Doctor’s regeneration had been terrifying. She’d really and truly believed that he was dead; dead, or body swapped with an odd, manic stranger. He’d been so distraught that she didn’t believe him that he was the Doctor, but how could she? He was entirely different. Looked different, sounded different, acted different. But the memories he shared, and the desperation and heartbreak in his voice as he pled with her to see him… she’d had to accept it.

She hadn’t been happy about it, though.

Rose had loved the Doctor. His crystalline blue eyes, full of fury and hurt and adoration. His stark, beautiful face that could be cold as carved stone one moment and giddily silly the next. The low burr of his voice. His strong, solid form, clad in an armor of leather, under which he’d never let anyone, except for her. His large, rough hands, which could be so surprisingly gentle on her skin. The contradictions that lived within him: his confidence and his insecurity; his rage and his joy; his forgiveness and his unforgivingness. 

She had known every corner of him, or so she thought. And then, suddenly, he’d been someone new.

This new Doctor was still full of contradictions, but he didn’t hold them within the steadiness that he had before. His joy sparkled, his anger blistered. He was tall and thin and although he was older than when she’d met him, he looked and acted younger. Lighter. He was more human, somehow. Less alien. He was also, Rose had to admit, quite fit. It felt disloyal to think so; she had to keep reminding herself that he was the same man. 

Did she love him? _Could_ she love him? She wasn’t sure yet. 

Once he’d rescued them on the Sycorax ship, and once he’d shared Christmas dinner with her, her mum, and Mickey, and once he’d invited her back onto the TARDIS with a relieved grin, she’d been able to reflect back on the day with less angst and more humor. It really had been ridiculously over the top. Very reminiscent of some of their earliest adventures with the Slitheen and the Nestene Consciousness. They’d almost been murdered by a CHRISTMAS TREE, for god’s sake! It was almost as ridiculous as shop dummies. Rose giggled to herself and rolled her head into her pillow, stifling the small half sob that came, unbidden, at the end of the laugh, making her realize that she was hovering on the very edge of hysteria. She was one to accuse the Doctor of contradictions. She had so many conflicting emotions running through her she didn’t even know where to start.

She was giddily happy to be home on the TARDIS; still wanted, still welcomed. When the new Doctor had taken her hand and leaned in close to her to point at the stars, she’d felt a shivering thrill of attraction, like a new crush. But she was heartbroken that the old Doctor was gone. It didn’t matter that this new man shared his memories, he was still different. It was so confusing. He was the same and he wasn’t. She had spent so much time mapping the firm planes of her Doctor’s body with her hands and lips and tongue, basking in the calm of spending quiet hours with him in the library, relying on his brilliant mind and unwavering determination to bring her through the most terrifying of situations, and that was all gone. How did one go about mourning someone who was technically still there, but not? Especially without hurting him? It hurt her head to think about it. 

The soft knock at Rose’s door did not come as a surprise to her. “It’s open,” she called out to the Doctor, not moving from her bed. She pondered how even his knock was different than it had been. 

The Doctor cleared his throat from the doorway. He shoved his hands into his pants pockets, rather than crossing them over his chest; another quirk changed, Rose thought wistfully. He didn’t enter the room, as he would have before. “Hello,” he greeted her cautiously.

“Hello,” she responded with a small smile, trying to radiate reassurance. 

“I, ah….” he started, pulling one hand from his pocket to ruffle his new riot of messy brown hair, so different from the shorn locks Rose had run her own fingers through so many times. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I know you said you still wanted to come, but… weeeell… I understand that this is all a bit of a shock. You do believe me now, though, right? You know that I’m me?” He talked with his body rather a lot, Rose noted. A dip of the shoulder, a roll of the head to stare at the ceiling, a rock on the heels of his trainers. His voice was hopeful but also pleading. His deep brown eyes, so much warmer than the icy blue she was used to, met hers and broadcast his worry and insecurity. 

Rose smiled again, wistfully, and reassured him. “Yeah, I believe you. Of course you’re the Doctor. Who else could possibly save the world with a satsuma?” The Doctor grinned at her in relief and Rose sighed. “It’s just,” she continued, “it’s gonna take me a little time, yeah? My brain doesn’t quite know what to do with it all. I wish…” she bit her lip and glanced away from the Doctor. “I wish you’d told me,” she finished more quietly, her hurt creeping into her voice. “I was so scared. We’ve risked our lives together so many times, I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me this could happen. So that I’d know you were okay.” She blinked back the tears that had begun to pool in her eyes, willing them not to fall.

“Oh, Rose,” the Doctor murmured, looking like he was about to move toward her, but ultimately maintaining his place in the doorway. “I’m so sorry. I’d hoped…” he sighed. “I’d been in that body for such a short time. I honestly didn’t think I’d lose it so quickly. But I still should have told you. Guess I was afraid you’d think it was too alien,” he grimaced, a bit sheepish. 

Rose snorted. “You’re nine hundred years old and have two hearts, and I handled that alright. I could’ve handled knowing you could change your face.”

“I know.” The Doctor looked regretful. “I’m sorry.”

“Hang on…” Rose began, sitting up, a look or realization dawning on her face. “Did you say you’d only been in that body a short time? Do you mean you’ve regenerated before?”

“Err…” the Doctor hedged, looking uncomfortable and tugging on one earlobe ( _yet another new quirk_ , Rose thought). “A few times, I suppose?”

“How many is ‘a few’?” Rose asked warily. The Doctor muttered something under his breath. “Sorry, what was that?” she prodded.

“I said ‘nine,’” the Doctor admitted with a wince. “This is my tenth body.” Rose stared at him in shock for a moment before flopping back on her bed and beginning to giggle hysterically.

“Oh my god,” she gasped. “That’s… TENTH?! You’ve had _ten_ different faces and you never thought to mention it to me?!” she could barely get the words out, she was laughing so hard. The Doctor looked sheepish. Rose clapped her hands over her face, wiping away tears, trying to get control of herself. Finally, she managed to catch her breath. “You’re such a BLOKE sometimes. An alien bloke, but definitely a bloke.” She sighed, somehow more relaxed than she had been thus far this evening. She snuggled down into her pillow a bit. “Okay, Mister Tenth Doctor,” she dismissed him, laughter tingeing her words, “this human needs her rest. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he answered, smiling softly, looking relieved at her reaction, sensing that they would be alright. “Goodnight, Rose Tyler.”

“Goodnight, Doctor.”


	13. 2.2 New Earth

The day had had such a promising start. Lying on the Doctor’s coat, spread out on the apple grass, watching the flying cars sail by overhead and giggling about their first date, back when he’d had a different face and she’d had a different outlook on the universe. It hadn’t felt like old times, exactly. In fact, it hadn’t really at all. And yet, it had been perfect. Rose had felt relaxed with him, content. He’d been so happy, in a way that felt so much lighter than she’d ever seen his previous self. She had to admit, she liked it. Unfortunately though, like so many of their trips, it had all gone a bit pear-shaped.

Having Lady Cassandra in her head had been a singularly unpleasant experience, Rose thought. It had been… squashed, like her essence had been shoved into a too-tight cupboard, where her body (if her consciousness had a body) was pressed into the wall uncomfortably before the door was wedged shut. She hadn’t cared for it one bit.

What she ALSO hadn’t cared for was being called out on how obnoxiously good looking she found her New New Doctor. She’d been trying to hold her attraction back a bit; to give herself some time before jumping right back into things. Good god he was gorgeous, she thought wistfully, but it was just too soon; she needed to take it slow. While Rose could lie to herself, however, she apparently couldn’t lie to someone who was squatting in her brain. Cassandra had been downright rude about it, really.

So now Rose was developing a bit of a headache from being squished inside her own skull for so long, was annoyed that the Doctor had taken so long to notice that she was possessed, and was simultaneously extremely ready to snog the new Doctor, with his tight pants and adorable freckles, within an inch of his life. Preferably while in her right mind, this time. She was very aware that this instinct was NOT OKAY, however, so she opted to focus on the annoyance.

When they were back inside the TARDIS and the Doctor had thrown them back into the time vortex, therefore, Rose glared at him and smacked him in the arm.

“Ow!” The Doctor complained, rubbing his arm and giving her an indignant look. “What was that for?”

“I can’t BELIEVE you didn’t figure out I wasn’t me until we were down with all the test patients!” Rose complained. “We’ve been traveling together for ages, how could you NOT NOTICE that i was acting weird?!”

“Well I don’t know!” The Doctor responded testily, “you’ve never been possessed before, how should I have known you were this time? Besides, to be fair, I did have an inkling before that, when you knew how to get through the security system.”

“Seriously?” Rose fumed. “You thought it might not be me because I could work a computer?! How about how I wasn’t acting anything like myself?! The accent? The unbuttoned blouse? The kissing?!”

“You kissed the old me all the time!” The Doctor objected.

“Yes, so you should have been able to tell the difference!”

“New lips, Rose! Everything feels different, that could have just been what it feels like to kiss you in this body!”

“You’re the one who changed, not me! I still kiss like me, thank you very much.”

“Well how would I know? You haven’t kissed me since I changed!” the Doctor huffed. 

Rose sighed, the fire going out of her, and slumped against the console. She’d just had to mention the kissing, hadn’t she? The whole point of picking a fight had been to avoid that particular topic. “I know, I’m sorry. It’s just… still a bit weird, yeah? I want to, I just…”

“I know,” The Doctor replied, sounding tired. “I’m sorry, too. I should have noticed it wasn’t you. I was preoccupied. I wasn’t paying enough attention. Forgive me?” he asked, leaning next to her and bumping his shoulder against hers. Rose grinned and bumped him back.

“Forgiven,” she said swinging around off the console and pointing at him, “but don’t do it again. The next time I’m possessed, I expect you to notice. Got it?” 

“Yes ma’am,” the Doctor said, saluting cheekily with his first two fingers.

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” Rose said, moving toward the corridor, “I’m going to see if the med bay has any of those painkillers from Meridon III left. My head is killing me.”

The Doctor looked alarmed at her words and was at her side at an instant. “What kind of pain? Is it sharp? Dull? Is it in any way glowy?” He slid a pair of black-framed glasses onto his face (where had those come from? And why did he have to look so good in them?), pulled his sonic out of his pocket, and began whirring it near her head, squinting his eyes at it. Rose tried to duck away and batted at his hand.

“What? Stop that! It’s just a headache, Doctor! Just the regular kind! What are you on about? How could a headache be ‘glowy’?” 

The Doctor ignored her question and ruffled his hair, studying the sonic. “Nothing out of the ordinary. Probably just aftereffects of the psychograph,” he stuck the sonic back in his pocket and grinned at her, his mood shifting back to cheerful so quickly that it almost gave her whiplash. “Nothing to worry about! Let’s get you those painkillers.” He held out his hand and wiggled his fingers at her.

Rose shook her head at him, but took the proffered hand. “You’re absolutely bonkers, you know that?” she asked him fondly.

“Yeah, but you love it,” he grinned.   
Rose rolled her eyes and let him lead her out of the room, trying not to stare at his bum as she trailed behind him slightly. He was right. She really, really did. 

********************

The painkillers kicked in quickly, but left Rose feeling a little bit buzzed. She tried to go to sleep, since it has been a rather intense day and the Doctor had told her that she should rest to recover from the psychograft, but she didn’t have any luck getting her brain to quiet down enough to let her drift off. Giving up after trying every conceivable pillow and blanket configuration she could think of, Rose slid on her slippers and went to find the Doctor.

Following the TARDIS’s lit-path directions, Rose wandered through the corridors until she found the Doctor in his work room, tinkering with a pile of unidentifiable bits of metal and blinking lights. “Oh, hello!” he said brightly when she knocked on door frame to get his attention. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Nah,” said Rose, “‘s too noisy in here tonight.” She tapped a finger on her temple. “Would...would you maybe read to me for a bit?” She bit her lip, unsure. Her old Doctor had read to her all the time when she couldn’t sleep, but she was still trying to gauge how different he was now that he was… different. 

“Of course!” the Doctor responded immediately, putting the pieces he’d been manipulating down on the workbench. “Let’s go to the library and you can pick something out, yeah?” Rose grinned.

Once she’d selected a book, Rose headed to the sofa, where the Doctor was already seated and waiting for her. She handed over the volume, and the Doctor looked down at it through his specs. “Ah, Alice in Wonderland! Good choice,” the Doctor said enthusiastically. “Charles Dodgson, he was brilliant. Do you know he used to write his own book of math puzzles?” 

“Charles Dodgson?” Rose asked, settling onto the sofa beside the Doctor, “Alice is by Lewis Carroll, I thought.” 

“Pen name,” the Doctor explained. “So, why are we visiting Wonderland tonight?”

“I dunno, just felt right,” Rose shrugged. “Something about cat nuns and apple grass felt very Wonderland to me. Anyway it’s always been a favorite of mine. When I was a kid I used to hope I’d wander off into a new world -- Wonderland, or Narnia, or Neverland. Not many rabbit holes on the estate, though!” Rose laughed. She paused, and then grinned before continuing. “Still, I did Lucy and Wendy one better, didn’t I? I might’ve had to wait awhile longer, but they only got one world to explore. I got as many as I could possibly want.” She smiled up at the Doctor, her tongue between her teeth. The Doctor slung his arm around her shoulder and pulled her in closer to him in a one-armed hug. 

“Quite right, too,” he told her. As she snuggled into his side and closed her eyes, the Doctor opened the book and began to read. “ _Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do. Once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, ‘and what is the use of a book,’ thought Alice, ‘without pictures or conversations?’_ ” 

Rose relaxed, the Doctor’s soothing voice helping to quiet all of the racing thoughts filling her head. It was a different voice, but it was still lovely. Somehow, even without the Northern accent, it still sounded very much like the Doctor. Rose smiled to herself, burrowing into the couch a bit further, sliding her head down a bit from the Doctor’s shoulder onto his chest and breathing in. He didn’t smell of leather anymore, but there was still something familiar there, something that made her feel at home and at ease. Without changing his cadence, the Doctor adjusted his body to accommodate Rose as she shifted, almost instinctually. Rose sighed happily. They still fit. 

Before they had even reached the caucus race, Rose was asleep, her head pillowed on the Doctor’s lap. Quietly closing the book, the Doctor scooped the sleeping girl up and carried her to her room, carefully tucking her into bed and brushing a kiss onto her hair, gently so as not to wake her. Then he left the room, gazing at the sleeping Rose from the doorway for a moment before closing the door softly behind him.


	14. 2.3 Tooth and Claw

As the TARDIS doors closed behind them and they debated the possibility of the royal families being werewolves and howled together at a nonexistent moon, Rose felt giddy. THAT had been an adventure. As they had dashed around the manor house, running for their lives while the Doctor thought up brilliant plans on the fly, teasing each other and trying to crack Queen Victoria’s composure, Rose had never felt so alive. For the first time since he’d changed, Rose had felt like this was really, truly, the Doctor. HER Doctor. She couldn’t stop smiling.

As the Doctor flipped the final switch to dematerialize the TARDIS, he grinned down at Rose, his face gleeful and unabashedly delighted and before she even realized she was doing it, Rose was bracing herself on his shoulders, lifting up onto her toes, and tilting her head up to press her lips firmly to his. 

When she dropped back to her heels, biting her lip a little at her own impulsiveness but still grinning, the Doctor looked dazed for a moment. Then a boyish grin broke across his face and his hands slipped into her hair, pulling her close as he dipped his head back down to hers and kissed her soundly.

They grinned and giggled as their lips came together over and over. Rose wrapped her arms around the Doctor’s neck and he moved his around her rib cage, picking her up and swinging her around in a circle, laughing as she shrieked, her legs dangling helplessly in the air. He set her back down and kissed her again, and she captured the full lower lip that’s she’d been having such trouble keeping her eyes off of between her teeth gently. He made a contented humming sound and nipped her right back before flicking his tongue out, seeking entrance. She opened to him immediately, meeting his tongue with hers, their mouths moving softly against each other in a dance that felt as natural as breathing.

And oh, it felt like coming home. It was different, but so, so right. She had missed this so much. Why had she held off so long? He was so very much himself and she loved him so much it hurt. Sliding her fingers into his thick, messy hair, Rose pulled the Doctor’s face more tightly to her own, deepening the kiss briefly, pouring her love and happiness into him without words. After a few breathless, enthusiastic moments, she pulled back slightly, kissing him lightly a few more times before pulling him into a tight hug, resting her head against his pinstriped chest.

The Doctor sighed contentedly and rubbed a hand up and down her back. “Not that I’m complaining,” he said, and she could hear the grin in his voice, “but what was that for?”

Rose smiled and pulled back from him. “I dunno. Just felt right, I guess.”

“It did, didn’t it?” the Doctor gloated, and Rose pushed him lightly in the chest, making him laugh.

“Thank you,” she told him. The Doctor looked at her curiously. “For bein’ patient with me,” she clarified.

“Of course,” the Doctor said softly. “I missed you, but you,  _ Dame Rose _ ,” he said teasingly before switching back to a more sincere tone, “are very much worth waiting for.”

Rose’s grin could have lit a small planet. She kissed him again, a firm press of her lips again his, the corners of her mouth still turned up, then dropped down and grabbed his hand. “Come on,  _ Sir Doctor,”  _ she teased him. Let’s get something to eat. And then, you owe me a concert!”


	15. 2.4 School Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some mild angst, sorry! But this was a weird point in the series and their relationship.

Rose gave Mickey a tour of the TARDIS, but her heart wasn’t in it. He was exuberant, excited by each increasingly unlikely room, and under different circumstances, Rose might have enjoyed showing off her world to him. Today though…

She’d known that the Doctor had travelled with others before her, of course. He’d mentioned it in passing, once upon a time, early on in their travels when he was all big ears and leather and she wasn’t yet hopelessly in love with him. She’d allowed herself to forget, though, letting the fact fade into the background like she did anything that reminded her of just how alien he was; how long he’d lived. Nine hundred years. Somehow she hadn’t really thought about what that meant — not in terms of the past, but in terms of the future. Who knew how long a Time Lord’s lifespan lasted? She’d never asked. Possibly she hadn’t wanted to know.

And those nameless, faceless people he’d travelled with before. Had they been lovers as well? When and how had they left? Were they all like Sarah Jane, unceremoniously dumped off in Aberdeen? Had they asked to go home?

Had they died?

_ You can spend your whole life with me, but I can’t spend mine with you. _

_ Humans decay. You wither, and you die. Imagine watching that happen to someone that you… _

The pain in his voice had been unfathomable. 

They needed to talk. She needed to know what her future held, what _his_ future held. Was she hurting him by staying? Was it really better to have loved and lost? Was it, even when you lost over, and over, and over again? What would happen when she got old, when she could no longer run for her life? What would happen to him when she was gone?

“Rose? Rose! Earth to Rose!” Mickey was waving a hand in front of her face, and she had the impression that he’d been trying to get her attention for awhile.

Rose inhaled sharply and shook her head a little to clear it. “Sorry! What were you saying?”

“Nevermind,” Mickey replied, exasperated. “Even after all that, seeing what’s he’s like, he’s all you can think about, isn’t he?”

“Mickey…” Rose began apologetically.

“It’s fine,” Mickey answered quickly. “Don’t know why I would’ve expected different. It’s just…” he looked pained. “You SAW Sarah Jane, Rose. You heard what she said. He just left her behind, like she was nothing. When’s that gonna be you, huh? You put your life on the line for him. You gave up everything, left me and your mum, and for what? To get ditched on a corner when he gets bored?”

“It’s not like that,” Rose protested. Mickey rolled his eyes. “It’s not! He said he wouldn’t do that to me.”

“Yeah, okay,” Mickey scoffed.

“He won’t,” Rose said resolutely. “And even if he did… what am I gonna do about it, huh? Leave now? Go back to mum’s? Work at a shop? I can’t do it Mickey. I just can’t. You know I can’t.” Rose pressed her lips together and tilted her head back, trying to stave off the tears that were threatening at the corners of her eyes. She sniffed. “So I’m staying, yeah? I’m staying as long as he’ll let me, and I’m taking whatever he’ll give, because it’s worth it. He’s worth it.”

“And I wasn’t.” Mickey stated, his voice flat.

Rose wiped at her eyes and buried her face in her hands for a moment, and then looked back up at him, her eyes pleading. “I’m sorry, Micks,” she said quietly.

“Yeah.” They stood in awkward silence. Finally, Mickey spoke again. “I’m gonna go settle in. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, okay. Goodnight, Mickey,” Rose answered, her voice slightly shaky. Mickey waved at her noncommittally as he walked away, his back stiff. 

“You alright?” came a voice from behind her. 

Rose wiped her face and turned to face the Doctor, who was leaning against the wall, hands in the pockets of his long coat. “Yeah, ‘course,” she responded, trying to make her voice lighter. She didn’t succeed.

“Rose,” he said, his tone making it clear that he knew she was lying. 

“Why’d you invite him along?” She asked the Doctor, picking not the subject that was bothering her most, but instead something a little more tangible.

“He asked,” the Doctor replied with a shrug.

“He’s my  _ ex _ ,” Rose said with exasperation. “My ex that I  _ left for you _ , I might add.”

“You wanted to invite my ex,” he protested. “Well, more or less anyway. Ex-assistant.” 

Rose gave him an assessing look. “So you and she weren’t…” she raised her eyebrows at him meaningfully.

“No,” he stated firmly, shaking his head slightly and holding her gaze. “No, we weren’t. I told you before that I’ve travelled with a lot of people, but I’ve never…” he trailed off, looking awkward.

“What, never? Really?” Rose looked at him disbelievingly. 

“Really,” The Doctor confirmed. 

“But you… you said you’d  _ danced _ ! And it certainly didn’t  _ seem  _ like you’d never…”

“What? NO! No no no. That was NOT what I meant.” The Doctor looked insulted but he was also blushing. “I meant not with anyone I travelled with. And not with a human.”

“Oh,” Rose replied. She paused for a moment. Then, “Why?” she found herself asking. 

The Doctor shrugged. “It wasn’t really done. Time Lords weren’t much for… mingling… with other species. It never really occurred to me, honestly.”

“So if they were still around, would you and I…?”

“Ahhhh, well,” the Doctor said, smiling a little sadly, and gazing up at the ceiling “I always was a bit of a rebel. I suspect I wouldn’t have cared much about their rules when it came to you.” He glanced back down at her and then looked away again. His words should have been reassuring, but the way that he wouldn’t meet her eye was making Rose nervous. There was an awkward pause, and then, apropos of nothing, the Doctor said “I thought it might help, to have him along.”

“Help… what?” Rose was thrown by the rapid topic switch.

“Having another human here. Someone you… care about. I thought it might…” The Doctor looked awkward. 

Rose felt a lurch in her stomach. Something was wrong. What was going on?

“Doctor, are you… are we… is everything okay?”

The Doctor sighed and ran a hand over his face. He looked like he was at a complete loss, and it made Rose’s heart ache. She reached for him, but he stepped back and then took a breath and pasted his manic smile onto his face, although it didn’t reflect in his eyes. It felt as though a door inside of him had just shut. “Fine! Everything’s fine,” the Doctor said, in a way that seemed like it was intended to reassure her, but actually just made her more nervous. “I just… have some work to do. On the TARDIS. Why don’t you go get some rest? We’ll take Mr. Mickey on a proper adventure tomorrow, someplace properly… spacey.” 

“...okay…” Rose answered uncertainly. With a nod, the Doctor spun in his heel and walked back toward the console room. Rose stood in the hall, not entirely sure what had just happened, but somehow suspecting that everything between them had just changed. She just wasn’t sure how, or why.


	16. 2.5 The Girl In The Fireplace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

Once she’d separated from Mickey, Rose went to her room and sagged onto the floor, leaning against a wall. She didn’t know what to do. She wanted to go to the Doctor. Whether to see if he was okay or to scream at him, she wasn’t sure. She was feeling rather conflicted about it, if she was honest with herself.

She’d known the Doctor was pulling away from her. She had felt it in their conversation last night. A corner had been turned somewhere, and she wasn’t entirely sure why. She’d thought, perhaps, that it was because of the stark reminder he’d received that she was aging, and that she wouldn’t be with him forever. She hated that something so outside of her control could come between them, but on some level she could sympathize. She’d watched him die. She would understand if he couldn’t bear it. After all, she wouldn’t be back. So if he had to protect his heart, well then… she didn’t think it would help, honestly, but she wouldn’t begrudge him the effort. At least, she would try not to.

Mind you, she hadn’t necessarily been willing to give up on him right away. That was why she’d been so touchy feely with Mickey all day. It was terrible of her, she knew, but she’d thought that perhaps if the Doctor saw his plan to “distract” Rose with Mickey’s presence seeming to be effective, he might second guess its wisdom. He’d always been a bit jealous and territorial. Maybe a little nudge would help.

But then… then he’d left her behind for Reinette Poisson, Madame du Pompadour herself. A woman whom he had seen advance from childhood to adulthood within the span of a few hours. He’d spent mere minutes with her over the course of her life and yet had run after her with barely a thought and no way back. 

Rose understood in theory, of course. Timelines. Fixed points. Things that had to happen, and the Doctor being the only one left to make sure that they did. If that had been it, she might not have been so hurt.

Five and a half hours had changed that, however. Five and a half hours of waiting, only to be immediately left behind again with no explanation. And then for him to come back seeming so incredibly sad when Reinette was gone. In mourning for a woman he had barely known, but who had still been the reason that Rose was left behind. Rose, whom he had assured that she was different. Who he had promised could spend her life with with him. 

She wanted to hate Reinette, but she couldn’t. The woman had been clever, and brave, and even seeing what the Doctor obviously meant to Rose had treated her as a comrade rather than a rival. She had known what it was to wait for the Doctor. It was the Doctor she couldn’t understand. Why would he run from her, only to take up with someone who he had to have known had even less time to share with him?

He’d seemed so heartbroken. She wanted, so much, to comfort him, to help ease his pain. He was her best friend, and she wanted to be there for him. But at the same time, she didn’t know if she could face him. Not right now.

A soft knock at her door told her that the decision had been taken out of her hands. 

“Come in, Doctor,” she called, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the wall. She heard the door creak open, and then the gentle pad of sneakered footsteps against the carpeting. A moment later, she heard the slide of fabric on plaster as the Doctor slid down the wall to sit next to her. She could feel the slight warmth of his body, near her but not touching. They sat silently, eyes closed, just existing together. Then, Rose let her right hand drop from her knee to the ground between them, a silent offering of comfort. Almost immediately, she felt his fingers intertwine with hers.

“I had a plan to get back,” the Doctor spoke quietly from next to her. “I want you to know that. I would never have gone without knowing I could get back. I wouldn’t have abandoned you. It would have taken me awhile linearly, but in your timeline, I never planned to be gone more than an hour, tops. I was going to wait for a former incarnation of mine to stop by Versailles and hitch a lift with him. I didn’t have time to explain before I jumped. I’m sorry.”

Rose felt a tear trickle down her cheek, but tried to ignore it. “I’m sorry she died,” she said quietly, valiantly keeping a waver from her voice. “I know you cared about her.”

The Doctor sighed. “I’m sorry, too. She was an exceptional woman. She deserved better. I let her down; I told her I’d come back for her, and I didn’t.” He squeezed Rose’s fingers, causing her to open her eyes and turn her head to look at him. “But I didn’t care about her, not the way you’re thinking. I got a bit swept away for a moment, but it wasn’t real. It wasn’t this.” He squeezed her fingers again for emphasis. 

“I let myself get caught up in an infatuation because I wanted a distraction,” the Doctor continued, looking away from Rose again, gazing out into the room, his voice full of self recrimination. Rose kept her eyes on him, unable to tear her eyes from his sad, beautiful face. “Seeing Sarah Jane reminded me how quickly humans age; how little time I have with you. I thought by pulling back I could protect myself. I thought, with Reinette… I thought I could convince myself I cared less for you if I allowed myself to be enticed by her. Didn’t work,” he said with a sardonic little laugh. “It just made it worse. Her life was like watching a firefly flicker and die. And all I could think was that some day that will be you, and no amount of careful distancing will keep it from breaking my hearts.”

Tears were flowing freely down Rose’s face now, and she had had to look away from him. She bit her lip to keep from sobbing, and used her free hand to scrub tears from her face. She couldn’t keep her shoulders from shaking. 

“Oh Rose,” the Doctor said, turning to her, his voice distraught, “I’m so sorry.” His hand dropped hers and his arms came around her, pulling her onto his lap. This tenderness proved to be her undoing, and Rose curled into his chest, sobbing openly. The Doctor held her tightly, rubbing circles on her back and rocking her, murmuring his apologies.

“I thought you left me,” Rose sobbed; “I thought you didn’t want me anymore. I didn’t know if you were coming back.”

“Rose, look at me,” the Doctor commanded softly, using two fingers to tilt her chin up. Reluctantly, Rose looked up, her reddened, tear-filled eyes meeting his remorseful brown ones. “I will always, ALWAYS come back for you,” he promised her. “Do you believe me?”

Rose sniffled and nodded, not trusting her voice. The Doctor took her tear stained face is in hands, kissing her forehead, and then her cheek, and then her lips. Closing her eyes, Rose let a few lingering tears course over her cheeks as she wrapped her hands behind his neck, kissing him back. 

It started slow; soft, comforting presses of lips, but as Rose’s need for reassurance and the Doctor’s need for forgiveness took over, the kiss became harder, fiercer; hands tangled in hair and lips and tongues claiming ownership. As the Doctor’s hands slid down Rose’s sides, tracing down her rib cage to her hips, he pulled back.

“Rose, can I… please, I need to…”

Rose nodded, unsure of what she was agreeing to but knowing that whatever it was he needed, she would give it to him. Always. The Doctor stood smoothly, scooping Rose up with him and carrying her to her bed, where he gently laid her down. He removed her shoes as well as his own before sliding up next to her, pulling her close and kissing her again, his hand skating down her side, caressing her, learning her shape with new hands. 

Soon, Rose felt his fingers at the button of her jeans. She must have stiffened slightly, because the Doctor pulled back and met her eyes. 

“Is this okay?” He asked. Rose bit her lip and nodded. Relief showed in the Doctor’s eyes as he lowered his mouth to hers again, continuing to kiss her leisurely while and he neatly undressed her, pulling back only to pull her top over her head. He released her mouth again to slide down her body, kissing softly and slowly along her bared stomach as he pulled her jeans and knickers down in one go, leaving her completely naked. 

Removing his jacket and tie, the Doctor lay down next to her again, gently stroking every inch of skin he could reach, following his hands with his mouth. He begged her forgiveness and acceptance with every brush of his long fingers, pledged his devotion with every caress of his lips. His tongue flicked out to taste her collarbone, her breast, her hip. Slowly and worshipfully the Doctor explored Rose’s body, and she let him, her hands stroking his hair but making no move to undress him further, understanding somehow that this was what he needed; what they both needed.

By the time the Doctor had settled between her legs, Rose was somehow both completely relaxed and on fire. When his agile tongue parted her, tasting her need and groaning in relief at reaching his goal, she was already hypersensitive. As the Doctor’s tongue began to flick rapidly at her clit, seeking comfort in her release, Rose grasped the bedsheets in her hands and repeated his name like a prayer.

It wasn’t long before Rose’s hips arched off the bed as she swore and saw fireworks behind her eyelids. Rather that stopping, the Doctor slowed his motions, allowing her to ride out the waves of pleasure before beginning to build them back up again. This time he increased the sensations, pairing a slower massage of his tongue with a gentle thrusting of one and then two fingers into her heated core, telling the story of his devotion through actions where he could not with words. When her second climax came, it wasn’t with an explosion like the first, but with the gentle insistence and inevitability of a wave cresting. 

When the aftershocks had ceased, the Doctor slowly made his way back up a Rose’s body, reversing his previous path, tracing soft patterns with his fingertips and punctuating them with soft kisses. When he reached her face again, Rose reached up and pulled him down to her, his forehead resting against hers. 

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Thank you,” her replied, pulling her to him and placing a kiss on her forehead before pulling the covers up over her naked form. Rose intended to ask if she could return the favor, but between the stress of the day and the intoxicating release she had just experienced, she was drifting off to sleep before she could form the words.

When Rose woke the next morning, for the first time, she found the Doctor still curled around her, his fingers entwined with hers.


	17. 2.6-2.7 The Rise of the Cyberman/The Age of Steel

Rose had retreated to her childhood room shortly after reassuring herself that her mother was, in fact, alive. The Doctor had stayed in the living room with Jackie, and she could hear the comforting murmur of their voices, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. She assumed that the Doctor was explaining what had happened with Mickey.

Mickey.

He’d been her best mate for so many years, and her boyfriend after that, and even with the way that she’d treated him after meeting the Doctor, he’d still been there for her whenever she’d needed him. He’d helped save her mum from the Slitheen, even after she’d accused him of murdering Rose; he’d helped her tear open the TARDIS to get back to Satellite Five to rescue the Doctor from the Daleks; and he’d been her friend even after she’d kept him hanging on even though she was in love with the Doctor and he knew it. And now he was gone, and she’d never see him again.

And then there was her dad. Her dad who wasn’t her dad; the Pete Tyler who had never had a daughter, and who now had no one. The Pete Tyler who had rejected her, even when there was no one else left.

Rose curled more tightly into herself, her knees pulled up under her chin as she sat against her headboard. Her nails dug into her jeans as she struggled to hold the broken pieces of her heart together. 

“Rose?” came Jackie’s concerned voice from outside the bedroom door, “Can I come in, love?”

“Yeah, ‘course,” Rose managed to reply after clearing her throat. She could feel unshed tears threatening to choke her, and clenched her hands around her knees even tighter as Jackie entered the room and sat next to her on the bed.

“Oh, Rose,” she said, running a comforting hand down Rose’s arm. “C’mere, sweetheart.” She wrapped her arm around her daughter’s shoulder, pulling her into a tight hug, whispering comforting nonsense into her hair. Rose curled into her mum’s embrace, and soon her suppressed tears had begun to fall in earnest. Sobs wracked her body as she clung to her mother, allowing all the pain of the day to come pouring out. Jackie held her and rocked her, stroking her hair, until she had eventually cried herself out.

With a loud sniffle, Rose sat up, giving a halfhearted, self deprecating laugh and wiping tears from her splotchy red face. “God, I’m sorry! I’m acting like I’m four years old, blubbering all over you.” 

Jackie gave her daughter a disapproving look. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m your mum, I’m always here if you need a good cry. Besides, from what himself told me, you had quite the day.”

“Yeah,” Rose admitted. “Wasn’t one of our better adventures.” She picked at the embroidery on her bedspread, feeling lost and exhausted and unsure of what else to say.

“The Doctor thought you might stay here for a bit,” Jackie ventured, “take a little rest from running about for awhile. What d’ya think, want to spend a few days at home?”

Rose sat straight up and looked at her in horror. “He’s leaving me behind?!” She made to scramble off the bed, but Jackie put out an arm to stop her.

“Rose, no, calm down! Nothing like that! He’ll be staying, too. Says that ship of his needs to recover after the rough journey. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Rose settled back with a shaky breath. “M’sorry, it’s just… been a hard week. I can’t… I just… I need him right now.” She buried her face in her mother’s shoulder and admitted quietly, “I can’t lose anyone else.”

Jackie kissed her daughter’s head. “I know, sweetheart. I know.” 

*********************

To Rose’s surprise, not only did the Doctor stay, but he stayed in the flat with them rather than in the TARDIS. In fact, he stayed with Rose each night as she fell asleep. To Rose’s absolute shock, Jackie didn’t say a word about the arrangement, continuing to flip through a gossip rag on the sofa when the Doctor trailed after Rose to her room the first night, not even glancing up as she called “goodnight!” after them. 

The Doctor didn’t try to initiate anything sexual with her again; rather he would just stay with her, keeping her company so that her anxieties wouldn’t run away with her. For the first few nights, he simply held her, reassuring her with his solid presence. As she began to relax, however, he would chatter at her about the places he’d like to take her; the things he couldn’t wait for her to see. She’d drift off, smiling, as he waxed poetic about this vista or that local delicacy that she absolutely had to see or try.

They stayed in London for nine days. The Doctor assured Rose that the TARDIS really did need some recovery time after her venture into a parallel universe, so Rose didn’t feel quite so terrible exposing him to a bit of domestic life while she did her own recovering. Honestly, this Doctor had been less averse to domesticity right out of the gate, and he didn’t seem to mind relaxing in one place for awhile at all.

Rose spent a lot of time with her mum, shopping, cooking, and watching telly. The Doctor alternated between leaving them to it while he disappeared into the TARDIS to work on repairs and joining them at unexpected moments. He became rather invested in EastEnders, and showed quite an interest in helping with the cooking, but was quickly banished from the kitchen after “upgrading” the toaster so that it spit blackened slices of bread across the room like projectile weapons.

When Jackie was at the salon working, Rose and the Doctor explored London. Rose had lived in the city her whole life, but had never spent much time truly exploring it. The Doctor dragged her to museums and historical sites, enthusiastically lecturing her on how certain artifacts in the British Museum had actually been left behind by alien species and about the time he’d split a bottle of Hypervodka with Andy Warhol and convinced him to paint a soup can as a joke. 

At first, Rose had been apprehensive about spending time at home. By the end of their stay, however, Rose was feeling much more herself. She hadn’t realized how much their series of emotionally tumultuous adventures had taken a toll on her. Spending some down time with her mum and the Doctor had been exactly the respite she needed. Traveling with the Doctor was a dream, but it had also left her feeling disconnected and insecure. Reconnecting with Jackie had reminded her of who she’d been before the Doctor came into her life, and spending time with the Doctor when life and death weren’t on the line reminded her that their friendship was based on more than just danger and adrenaline.

By the time the TARDIS was fully recovered (or at least, by the time the Doctor admitted that she was — Rose suspected that he may have drawn things out a couple extra days until he was sure that Rose was feeling better), Rose was positively anxious to get back out into the universe. With a tight hug to her mum and a promise that they’d visit more often, the Doctor and Rose finally departed the Estate, boarding the TARDIS hand in hand. 

As the Doctor launched them into the vortex with a flourish and the TARDIS took off with a comfortingly familiar wheeze, the Doctor grinned at Rose toothily, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes.

“So, Miss Tyler,” he smirked, leaning across the console, “How do you feel about Elvis?”


	18. 2.8 The Idiot’s Lantern

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is literally just smut. I’ve upped the rating just in case it’s passes the reasonable boundaries for an “M.” Consider yourselves warned!

Once the initial shock of having her face sucked off and stored in a television had worn off, Rose was inclined to view their adventure in 1953 as rather a lark. She and the Doctor had gotten to play detective and injure the ego of a sexist wanker while at it, they’d dashed about on a motorbike which had been a fairly spectacularly good time, and in the end, they’d beaten the bad guy and stuck around for a bit of a party. Plus, she’d been the one to discover the pivotal clue, which was always nice -- especially in lieu of the Doctor’s teasing “domestic approach” comments. All in all, she was feeling upbeat and cheerful as they returned to the TARDIS.

The Doctor, however, was not having quite the same reaction to the day. Although he’d put on a happy face in front of the crowd and initially been quite blase about the whole thing, as the evening wore on, he’d struggled more and more to hide the distress he was obviously feeling. Rose watched him worriedly as they entered the console room. She perched on the jump seat and observed him as he launched the TARDIS into the time vortex once again. His movements lacked the energy and joy they usually contained, instead seeming more direct and economical, resembling more the movements of her brooding first Doctor than her usually manic current one. 

As he stared blankly at the console, Rose slipped off the seat and walked over to him, leaning on the console beside him and watching his face until his eyes finally met hers.

“Doctor, you alright?” she asked him. 

Contrary to his usual “I’m always alright,” the Doctor stayed silent. Instead, he brought his left hand up to cup her cheek, his eyes looking forlorn. Rose stayed quiet as the Doctor ran his fingers over her face, tracing her cheekbones, her eyebrow, her lips, before moving his hand behind her neck and pulling her in for a tight hug.

“I never should have left you,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“Doctor, it’s fine,” Rose murmured reassuringly, running her hands up and down his back. “I’m _fine_ , I promise.” She could feel him shake his head against her, and then he was pulling back slightly, just enough to get a good view of her face, his eyes full of pain and guilt. He brought his hands back to her face and then moved forward, bringing his lips to her skin.

He kissed her forehead first, and then her eyelids. Her right temple, followed by her cheek, and then her nose. He ran his nose lightly up her other cheekbone and up to her left temple, breathing in the scent of her hair. Finally, he brought his mouth to hers. He kissed her, lightly at first, and then more firmly. His hands slid into her hair, holding her in place as he continued to explore her. He deepened the kiss, and Rose let out a quiet sigh of satisfaction, sliding her own hands up to his shoulders. 

The sound seemed to snap something in the Doctor, and the kiss quickly escalated until it wasn’t exploratory at all. Instead, it was rough and demanding and, if Rose was being honest, extremely arousing. The Doctor moved forward, pressing Rose’s backside into the console as his tongue dove into her mouth and his hands clenched in her hair. She let out a moan and his hands left her hair only to grasp the backs of her thighs, hoisting her effortlessly onto the console’s edge without ever bracing the increasingly desperate kiss. 

Rose hadn’t been able to articulate to herself why she had put off becoming fully intimate with her second Doctor to herself before this point, and as he moaned into her mouth and clenched his hands on her stocking-clad thighs, any reasons she’d had to begin with -- however vague -- went right out the window. Without thinking, Rose wrapped her calves around his bum, crossing her ankles behind him, and used her arms behind his neck and her entwined feet to pull him tightly to her so that his pelvis ground against her core. The pressure of his obvious hardness against her caused her to return his moan, biting his lower lip before sucking it into her mouth.

The Doctor’s hands slid up her thighs and under her voluminous pink skirt, past the elastic of her thigh high stockings and onto bare skin. Rose’s head fell back and she groaned, abandoning his mouth, as his left hand grasped her bum and held her steady while the fingers of his right hand rubbed against the dampening center of her knickers. She could’ve sworn she heard the Doctor growl in response to her moan before his mouth sought her neck, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin under her ear as two of his fingers slid under the edge of her knickers and, with no warning, plunged into her core.

“Oh, FUCK,” Rose heard herself cry as her hands wound themselves into the Doctor’s hair, pulling as he thrust into her, curling his fingers slightly, his movements becoming smoother as she became wetter in response to his fingers and teeth. 

“Rose,” the Doctor breathed into her neck, his voice dark and wanting. “Rose, I need you, please.”

“Yes,” Rose gasped, “Please, fuck, _yes_.”

The Doctor’s hand retreated and she could hear him fumbling with the fastening on his trousers as he freed himself. Then, moving his head back so that he could meet her eyes, he pushed her knickers to the side, aligned himself with her entrance, and plunged into her. 

Rose gasped and closed her eyes. It had been months since they’d done this, since before he’d changed bodies, and the feeling of him filling her bordered on overwhelming. The Doctor groaned at the feeling of her enveloping him and gazed at her face, waiting until she opened her eyes again. At her nod, he began to move, pulling back and then pushing back into her, slowly at first, and then with more force, his eyes never leaving her face. Rose whimpered at the sensations he was causing, moving her hands from his neck down to the edge of the console, where she clung, anchoring herself as he pounded desperately into her, watching her every expression with reverence. 

As the Doctor’s thrusts became more desperate, Rose felt one of his hands move beneath her full skirt to cling the crease of her hip, his thumb coming to her clit where he began to rub circles in time with the movement of his hips. Quickly, she felt her climax rising. “Oh fuck,” she muttered, feeling the fire inside her build. “Oh god, Doctor, please, yes, please, oh _god_!” and with a final curse she shattered, her legs tightening around him convulsively as she rode out the waves of pleasure. With a few final ragged thrusts, the Doctor joined her, his head falling to her shoulder as he called out a muffled completion into the fabric of the bomber jacket she still wore. 

The stayed like that for a moment, entwined and panting, before Rose uncrossed her ankles, letting her legs fall as the Doctor’s softening length slipped from her. As he pulled back, she slid off the console and straightened her skirt, giving him a cheeky, tongue-touched grin. 

“So, feeling better?” she asked him, winking. The Doctor mock glared at her as he tucked himself back into his pants and trousers, but couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth from twitching.

“Hush, you,” he said, grabbing her waist and pulling her to him for a tight hug, kissing the top of her still-headband clad head. “Thank you,” he murmured into her hair.

“Any time,” Rose grinned, burying her face in his shoulder. “In faaaact,” she drew out the word teasingly, pulling back from him and scooting out from between him and the console, “I was thinking I might go grab a shower; I’ve been in this dress for way too long. You could always join me?” She winked at him again before turning and sashaying toward the hall, her pink skirt swishing around her knees. When she looked back at him over her shoulder, he was grinning and the haunted look from earlier was completely gone from his eyes.

“Rose Tyler,” he declared, his voice both fond and full of promise, “I do believe I will.” And with that, he stuck his hands into his pockets and sauntered after her.


	19. 2.9-2.10 The Impossible Planet/The Satan Pit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is short but (I think) sweet! People often get into a lot of angst after these episodes, but I've already gotten these two through a lot of their issues, so I decided to take it in a different direction.

Rose and the Doctor lay entwined in her bed, still nude, although they’d pulled the top sheet up to stave off the chill of the air as the sweat of their lovemaking evaporated off their skin. Rose was feeling blissfully relaxed as endorphins flooded her system. She had jumped him almost as soon as they’d said goodbye to the survivors of Sanctuary Base, kissing him fiercely, and through their first desperate joining and then a second, sweeter coming together, they’d expressed to each other the terror they’d felt at being stranded, the fear they’d had when they thought they’d lost one another, and the euphoria and relief they’d felt at being reunited against all odds.

Now they lay, the Doctor gazing up at the ceiling with a slight smile on his face, Rose curled into his chest, one leg thrown over him, one hand absently tracing his ribcage.

“We should get separated more often, if that’s how we celebrate reuniting,” Rose mumbled, her tone teasing.

“Bite your tongue!” the Doctor berated her in a faux-stern voice. “I’m absolutely positive that we can find less perilous excuses to _dance_ than almost being sucked into a black hole while trying to defeat monsters that challenge our understandings of reality.”

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” Rose responded, grinning up at him, tongue in teeth. 

He smiled down at her fondly and kissed the top of her head. “You’ll be the death of me, Rose Tyler,” he said, his voice warm.

“Too late,” she said with a sad smile. Her expression changed to a smirk as she continued, “Besides, I wasn’t the one who decided to go spelunking down a possibly bottomless pit, thanks.”

“Touché,” the Doctor conceded. “But if I hadn’t, we all would’ve ceased to exist by now, so all in all it wasn’t my worst plan ever,” he mused.

Rose wrinkled her nose at this, but she couldn’t argue that he was technically correct. “True,” she finally agreed. “Alright, s’pose I forgive you, then.”

“Quite right, too.” 

They lapsed into a companionable silence, basking in their closeness. Rose had begun to drift off to sleep when the Doctor spoke again, stirring her back to wakefulness. 

“So I was thinking,” he said without prelude, “if we ever _were_ to get stranded. We wouldn’t HAVE to get a mortgage. We could get a caravan instead. Keep on traveling. Same old life.”

“Yeah?” Rose asked, smiling.

“Absolutely! Any planet we ended up on would be bound to have all sorts of places to explore. You and me, we can find an adventure anywhere.”

“You wouldn’t get tired of me without an infinite ship to get lost in and all of time and space to explore?” Rose asked sleepily.

“Tired of you, Rose Tyler?” the Doctor asked, sounding offended. “Never.”

Rose hummed happily, and allowed herself to drift off to sleep.


	20. Entr’acte: Forever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is quickly coming to an end! I’ve got two chapters and an epilogue left to go. 
> 
> I decided to do an entr’acte rather than a post-episode for Love and Monsters, because that episode isn’t really so much about Rose and the Doctor, so there isn’t much to react to. I hope you enjoy this interlude instead!
> 
> Sorry for the delay on this one, and thank you so much for sticking with me thus far!

After the incident with the “not blue” bucket, the Doctor told Rose he’d take her somewhere quiet as an apology for yelling. She had laughed at him, saying that if she was owed a holiday for every time he yelled, they’d have to book rather a lot of leisure travel. The Doctor had just grinned cheekily at her before launching them into space and time.

Now, they stood on a rocky plain, watching flying creatures that looked like stingrays the size of cruise ships soar through an orange and golden sky, weaving through stone arcs like an ancient crumbling cathedral inhabited by giants. 

“So what’s this planet called, then?” Rose asked after her usual exclamations over the beauty of the scene stretching before her.

“Technically speaking, in doesn’t have one,” the Doctor said, gazing outward and upward. “Well, not in the traditional sense. Those creatures up there,” he said, pointing up at the stingray-like beings, “are the only ones living on this planet, and they don’t have a developed spoken language, per se. They communicate through those screeches you’re hearing, but only the most rudimentary of ideas. I suppose if they _were_ going to refer to the planet, they would say…” and here the Doctor let out a terrifying screeching noise, causing Rose to slap her hands over her ears and look at him with indignation. “Roughly translated, means ‘down there,’” the Doctor continued as though nothing unusual had just happened.

Rose rolled her eyes and dropped her hands back to her sides. “You’re a complete nutter, you know that?” she told him fondly.

“You love it,” the Doctor answered with that toothy, boyish grin that made Rose’s insides melt, a twinkle in his eye. She could never stop herself from returning that smile, with interest.

“I do,” Rose answered. She couldn’t help the softened tone of her voice; a tone that implied things that she still hadn’t managed to say aloud. It was a tone that said it wasn’t only his eccentricities that she loved. The Doctor’s smile softened, and he held her gaze for a moment, eyes full of something Rose couldn’t quite put a name to, before turning back outward, looking at the sky and not her face. He seemed to see and not see the glowing sky all at once. They were quiet for a time.

“How long are you going to stay with me?” the Doctor asked eventually, breaking the silence and glancing back over at Rose, hands in his pockets as they often were when he was trying to exude an air of casual indifference. Rose had long ago realized that this was part of a carefully crafted facade; a gesture designed to belie the seriousness of a situation.

With another soft smile, Rose answered him in the simplest, truest way she could:

“Forever.”

*********************

That night, they made love slowly and gently, moving together with the grace of unbreaking waves undulating on the surface of a deep, fathomless sea. No words interrupted their gasps and sighs, but every movement was filled with promises and declarations. Each rock of their hips declared their devotion; each brush of lips against skin promised a thousand thousand more to come. Skin slid against skin, and every touch affirmed their love. They didn’t speak the words, but they knew.


	21. 2.12 Fear Her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff and smut and fluff and a bit of angst and then a bit more fluff. Enjoy your last fluffy chapter, though, because this story is staying cannon compliant. Sorryyyyy.

Rose didn’t want to focus on the trauma of the Doctor and the TARDIS disappearing into a drawing and not knowing if she’d be able to get them back, nor did she want to let the Doctor (or herself) dwell on the so-called storm that he claimed to feel coming, so she decided to focus on another aspect of the day.

“You were jealous of a cat,” she teased the Doctor, grinning at him gleefully.

“I was not!” the Doctor replied, indignant.

“You WERE. You were jealous of a CAT! I called him handsome, and you were jealous!” Rose continued to taunt.

“Rose Tyler, I was not _jealous_. I was merely…” but the sentence trailed off, as the Doctor failed to think of an emotion that he could have been feeling that would be appropriately Time Lord-y.

“Merely…?” Rose asked, raising her eyebrows at him, eyes twinkling.

“Hush, you,” the Doctor pouted.

“Don’t worry Doctor, I promise I think you’re AT LEAST as handsome as that cat,” Rose reassured him laughingly, pulling on the lapels of his jacket so that she could give him a conciliatory peck on the lips.

“Oh, I know,” the Doctor answered, his voice suggestive.

“Do you now?” Rose asked, looping her arms around his neck.

“Oh yes,” the Doctor responded, placing his hands on her waist and pulling her closer to him. “You think I’m _foxy._ ” he imitated Cassandra’s intonation from months ago and Rose giggled up at him. 

“You, Sir Doctor, are getting rather overconfident. Bit big for your britches, yeah?” she trailed one of her hands down his side to his bum, which she squeezed firmly to emphasize her point as she raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Am I now? Well that’s unfortunate. I rather like these britches. Still, if they’re too small, I suppose I should take them off,” the Doctor mused. 

“Mmm, yeah, probably should do.” Rose agreed with a nod. “S’pose I could help you with that. Tight trousers can be rather hard to take off. You could probably use an extra hand.”

The Doctor grinned toothily as Rose unwrapped her arms from his neck and placed her hands against his chest, shoving him back toward the jumpseat. He giggled as he fell back onto it, where Rose promptly climbed up to straddle his lap. She threaded her hands into his hair and tugged to tilt his head back so that she could kiss him properly. They snogged leisurely, smiling as their mouths came together and parted and came together again, tongues teasing each other. Rose nipped at the Doctor’s lower lip, and he groaned deep in his throat. She could feel his anatomy responding to their closeness, and shifted back slightly, running her hands down his chest and to the fly of his trousers.

“Now, let’s see about these over-tight britches, shall we? They seem to have gotten even tighter!” Rose ran a finger up the Doctor’s straining bulge teasingly.

“Minx,” the Doctor chided, trying to stifle another groan.

“You love it,” Rose responded. Her deft fingers unfastened the button and zipper that were blocking him from her, and she slid herself back to the ground, grasping the waistbands of his trousers and pants and pulling them down his legs in one smooth movement. The Doctor lifted himself slightly to allow her to complete the movement, and then watched with eyes darkened with anticipation and want as Rose sank gracefully to her knees in front of him.

Rose ran her hands up the Doctor’s now-bare thighs. “How’re your manly, hairy legs feeling now? Better?” Rose asked in mock concern, her wide eyes meeting his.

“Much,” the Doctor answered. “You were right, those britches were entirely too… ohhhhhhh… too tight.” The last came out on a gasp as Rose, without breaking his gaze, licked his now fully erect shaft slowly from base to tip. “Fuck, Rose.”

Rose grinned as she continued her ministrations, her hands and lips and tongue working together to drive the Doctor mad. His head fell backwards onto the jumpseat headrest as she worked him; his hands grappled with the upholstery as he struggled to maintain his composure. It was a struggle he lost quickly, and soon a torrent of swearing and begging in a variety of languages was spilling from his mouth as Rose worked him faster, her mouth sliding up and down him rhythmically, pushing him ever closer to the edge. When he finally hit the point of no return, he gasped out at her desperately, “Fuck, Rose, I’m so close. Oh god, please…” Rose pulled her head back and pumped him swiftly a few more times with her tight, warm fist until he spilled into her other waiting hand with a groan. Grinning mischievously, she rose from the floor, leaving him prone on the seat, and then winked at him. 

The Doctor chuckled. “Well, you did say you were going to give me a hand. Didn’t mention a mouth, though; that was quite a bonus. I should get too big for my britches more often.” 

Rose laughed. “Be right back,” she told him, sauntering off toward the loo, completely unembarrassed by the puddle of fluid cupped in her hand. 

When she returned to the console room, the Doctor had rearranged his clothes and launched them into the vortex. She could tell his mood had shifted even before she saw the look on his face. Despite her best efforts, her attempt to distract them both from the aura of dread that had lingered over the end of the day had not dispelled the worry for very long at all. The Doctor looked up when he sensed her in the doorway, and beckoned her over. She went to him, and he wrapped her into a tight hug, dropping a kiss onto the top of her head before tucking her under hs chin.

“What did you mean before, about a storm?” Rose asked him quietly.

“I can’t really explain,” the Doctor responded, his voice heavy, “I can just feel it. Something’s coming. Something bad.”

“Should I be scared?” she asked him.

With a heavy breath out, the Doctor unwrapped himself from her. “Nah,” he answered, his casual tone fooling her not at all. “I’m sure it’s nothing. It’ll be fine.”

“You sure?” she asked apprehensively, entwining her fingers with his and tugging on his hand slightly. He turned back toward her and met her eyes, his face serious.

“I will never let anything happen to you, Rose Tyler. I will always keep you safe. I promise.”

Rose nodded, and pulled him back in for another hug. He rocked her gently as she tried to fight the tears that were gathering in her eyes. She didn’t know why, but she could feel it, too. Something was coming. She couldn’t help but think back on the words of the demonic being on Krop Tor. _The valiant child, who will die in battle so very soon._

“Tell you what,” the Doctor said, his tone purposefully light as he squeezed Rose tightly before releasing her and taking her hands instead. “Let’s visit a bazaar planet, shall we? Do a little shopping? Nothing a little alien shopping trip can’t fix. Weeelll, I say nothing… shopping can’t fix most things, actually, but it’s always a good distraction. What do you say?”

Rose smiled sadly up at the Doctor, trying so hard to be brave for her. “Yeah, alright,” she agreed. “Let’s go shop. Maybe I can pick something up for mum to cheer her up after that whole debacle with Elton.” 

“Ah yes, gifts for the mother-in-law,” the Doctor sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Every bloke’s favorite thing.”

“Mother-in-law?” Rose repeated skeptically, raising a brow at the Doctor.

“Oh, we’re married according to the records of quite a few planets, Rose,” the Doctor told her casually. “Could hardly be helped. The rules are so wibbly wobbly from place to place, it was inevitable that at least one society we came across would consider us legally bound based on holding hands in public or wearing yellow on a Tuesday.”

“Uh...huh,” Rose responded. She shook her head in disbelief and then shrugged. “Right. Mother-in-law it is, then! You get to be the one to tell her that her only daughter got married accidentally without inviting her, though, yeah?” 

The Doctor grimaced. “How about we just keep that bit of information to ourselves, shall we?”

Rose laughed. “Come on, you. Let’s go shop.”

“Let’s,” the Doctor agreed. “But first…” his voice turned teasing and seductive as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her jeans. “It seems to me that I have a favor to return.”

“That so?” Rose asked, her eyes darkening as she picked up on his shifting move. 

“Oh yes,” the Doctor responded, and before she could react, he’d scooped her off the floor and slung her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Rose shrieked and giggled helplessly as, without another word, he carried her off down the hall towards his bedroom.


	22. 2.13-2.14 Army of Ghosts/Doomsday

_ “I will always, ALWAYS come back for you,” he promised her. “Do you believe me?” _

Rose stared at the blank white wall. She sat for five and a half hours, her face streaked with mascara, her eyes unfocused, but unable to leave. She sat for five and a half hours, and then she sat for a few more, just to be sure. After all, he had promised her. He had promised.

He didn’t come back for her.

Eventually, she gave in to her mother’s pleading, and allowed Mickey’s reassuring arm around her shoulder to guide her as she stumbled out of the nightmarish white room and toward a world that wasn’t her world; a world where she didn’t belong. 

He hadn’t come back for her, so she would have to go back for him.

She’d done it before.

Rose straightened her back and walked with more confidence. She had work to do.


	23. Epilogue

It had all happened so fast.

They’d been running toward each other. Then he’d been shot, been regenerating. Then he’d been fine, and they’d been in the TARDIS, and it was all going to be okay.

It was all going to be okay.

And then they’d been on the crucible, and then there’d been two of him, and then they’d saved the world, and they’d all been piloting the TARDIS together, and they’d been laughing and smiling and towing the earth home and saying their goodbyes and…

And then they’d been on a beach; a terribly, horrifyingly familiar beach.

And then one of him had said it, and the other hadn’t, and she had kissed him, and then… then he’d been gone, and he hadn’t even said goodbye; hadn’t said anything at all.

He’d left her again, and he’d also stayed. He was with her and he wasn’t. The hand in hers was familiar and yet not. Warm where it should be cool, but still fitting perfectly within hers. The decision had been made and he was gone and he was here and he wasn’t him but he was.

It had all happened so fast.

Rose continued to stare at the space where the TARDIS had been and now was not; where her future had been and now was not; where her love had been and now was not. The hand that was still entwined with hers, the hand of the Doctor who wasn’t the Doctor but so clearly was, the stranger with her lover’s face, the man she knew better than she’d ever known anyone, squeezed hers tightly. She looked up at him helplessly, her eyes wide and shocked and full of tears.

“He left,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “You… he… you left us here. He left me here. He’s gone.” She couldn’t tear her eyes from his face, from his sad, apologetic eyes. 

“I know,” he said softly. “I’m sorry. We… he’s… I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry Rose. I couldn’t stop him.” He pulled her into a tight hug, and she clung to him because she didn’t know what else to do and because she needed him and she needed  _ him _ and she couldn’t hold in her sobs and there was nowhere else to hide her face. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated brokenly, “but I’m still me. I promise you, Rose, I’m still me.” 

Her body shook as she sobbed into his chest, his arms wrapped around her, holding her together as she tried to fall apart. “I know,” she choked out when she’d gotten her breath back. “I know.” Slowly, her breathing began to settle back toward normal, but she didn’t let go, electing instead to stay curled against him, breathing in his familiar-but-not-familiar scent as she listened to the beat of his single, lonely heart, reminding her of everything she had and everything she’d lost.

He was the Doctor, but he wasn’t. But he  _ was. _ He had changed before, and maybe they’d never made it to Barcelona, but he’d still been him, and he was still him, and she’d missed him  _ so much _ and she was so, so tired. Too tired to be angry, at least for now.

Finally, she pulled away from him and looked up at his concerned, pleading face. She sighed.

“Come on, Doctor,” she said sadly, reaching out for his hand, which quickly grasped hers as though he was afraid she would pull it back. “Let’s go home.” His face relaxed with visible relief, his eyes suspiciously damp, and nodded silently.

Rose Tyler had had a very weird day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, folks! Hope you enjoyed! If you were looking for a fix it, I’m so sorry—my goal with this one was to see if I could stay cannon compliant and still give Rose and the Doctor the love story I wanted for them. If you want to read a fix it, check out my other fic, “Mending the Rift”!
> 
> All my love,  
> GallifreyisBurning


End file.
